


Rubies Red and Sapphires Blue

by hikarufly



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, What if?, new characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 27,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikarufly/pseuds/hikarufly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monsieur et Madame De La Gauche want to get "back" to Court, and the fortunate circumstance of the Cardinal's lover death may be the perfect starting point. Will Cardinal Richelieu fall for an apparently innocent but passionate girl? WIll his creature Milady have a say on it? And how will the girl's maid, handle that situation being desperately in love with Athos?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good news: the Cardinal’s lover is dead

The wayfarer entered the tavern, just in the outskirts of Paris: it was a dark smokey place, the sort of place you go to listen, unseen, to other people’s business, usually if not proper, and under the influence of alcool. But that night, Monsieur De La Gauche was at the bar, and was drinking red strong wine. He was a tall, slouching man, with clothes too big for his size or they would have been too short. His eyes were intelligent and bright, always sparkling when there was a good chance to be taken. He was the unfortunate son of an unfortunate fallen Duke, with no more money or importance, so he decided to find his way into this world with his wit: he had plenty of it.

The wayfarer set beside him. He said “ _Bonnesoir_ " as any gentle frenchman and drank at his health. He was surely about to tell him something juicy so Monsieur De La Gauche returned his compliments and offered him another glass. He was at his fifth, but he could carry on all night: he never seemed to get drunk. His wife always said he was too thin to keep the liquor in his blood: a piss, and he was sober.

«So, my dear good friend: have you got any story? You are a wanderer, and those have always something to tell, to amuse the public at least» said Monsieur De La Gauche. The wayfarer grinned.

«Oh yes,  _Monsieur_ indeed I have. But those tales need a good ear, not just a drunken nobody’s one» said the wanderer, giving him the usual look that meant business.

«Your words are very flattering and moving, sir. My heart is full of pride, but say no more: you are invited to drink my own wine and eat at my own table» proclaimed De La Gauche, standing up from his stool and giving him a pat on his shoulders. The wayfarer thanked him, and they acted their little piece of good words and promises of eternal friendship, leaving the tavern, so that anybody could hear them, and hear them well. A few minutes, and the not so big and noble but dignifying residence was reached. It screamed of fallen aristocracy. Madame De La Gauche greeted the wanderer with a couple of kisses: he was, on the other hand, her brother.

«So, Henri… what is this story only my ears should be aware of?» asked Monsieur De La Gauche, pouring some of his own wine in his brother in law’s glass, then his own, while Madame De La Gauche sat at the table too. She was a sweet looking woman, quite short - and not because her husband was too tall - but proportioned. Her eyes had the same sparkle of his husband’s but all in her expression was fun, and a bit naughty, like a young woman’s who has just discovered her lover’s secrets, and will use them against him.

«My dear brother» replied Henri «very good news, something I believe could help us quite a lot: the Cardinal’s lover is dead»

Monsieur and Madame De La Gauche were not at all dismayed by Henri’s attitude or words. At first, they glanced at each other, as the adventurers that find the long-sought treasure, but are not sure if it is what they were looking for or not. 

«Are you sure?» asked Monsieur De La Gauche.

«Indeed, Armand, I am» replied Henri «I’ve heard her screaming myself. “Aramis” she said, “I love Aramis!”. And then she was shot, and I saw the Cardinal’s coach drive away»

Madame De La Gauche frowned.

«Poor Eminence: his black little heart must have been broken on the spot!» said she, between ironic or serious.

«Virginie, please. This is a matter of importance, great importance. Can’t you see the opportunities?» asked Henri, in haste.

«Of course I do, brother» replied Virginie, with a naughty smile «Destiny it was, for sure. You have even his same  _prenom_ , my love» she continued, looking fondly at her husband and taking his hand «in a long night of lingering passion, I would not be mistaken in the name I should scream»

«I am not interested in these… details» said Henri, a bit nauseate «but you, my dear sister, could be the making of your husband and me. We should be in court, if it was not for our silly parents, and the late Duke De La Gauche, God rest his soul. If you become the Cardnial’s mistress, then we can get back our rightful place»

«We could» commented Armand De La Gauche, not at all disturbed by the innuendos of his wife «but how can we be sure? Last time Virginie tried to become a big name’s mistress, we could not get anything out of it!»

«That was because the guy in question was a complete fraud» replied immediately Henri, so to state that it was not entirely his fault.

«Cardinal Richelieu is more powerful than the King, or at least that is what most people say» said Virginie «massive responsibility and dealing with constant incompetence means the man must be mentally exhausted. He needs distraction, relax, and, most of all, fun»

«And you are so much fun,  _ma cherie_ » stated Armand De La Gauche, sweetly scratching her chin, like you do with a kitten.

«That is why I thought immediately of this. But how can we make this happen? Virginie, you are a very lovely thing, but there must be so many women, even more beautiful, rich and powerful than you, that yearn to be Richelieu’s mistress» explained Henri, impatient. Monsieur De La Gauche found it was the moment for him to take the situation in his hands.

«Don’t be too rush, my friend. All things in due cause. The Cardinal will go this country residence, now that there is no crisis, and no great interest is at stake. He must find solitude, so that he can pretend he is on a spiritual retreat or something, remember himself that love is just pain and misery, at least for him, and move on. Then, we can make our move. His residence is not far from here, and our name is still worth something. I’ll make myself be known and I will ask for a nice meeting between gentlefolk: I will suddenly feel very hill, but  _ma petite tourterelle douce_  will not be able to decline His Eminence so kind and considerate reply, because he will give it, he cannot risk not to invite the only noble, or sort of noble, presence around here. Then, Virginie will know what to do» explained Armand De La Gauche, slowly and carefully. Henri smiled, as his sister did, and as her husband did.

They toasted their plan, at the good health and hidden passions of His Eminence the Cardinal Armand-Jean Du Plessis de Richelieu. 


	2. Three things I can offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madame De La Gauche and the Cardinal meet: will she convince him?

Virginie was quite nervous: well, actually very nervous, a lot nervous. She had arrived  _chez le Cardinal_ punctually, alone and unaccompanied, dressed perfectly: neither too sumptuous nor vulgarly, she wore a simple but elegant dress, that exalted her proportioned figure, her quite plump breast (without showing too much) and made her seem a little taller than she actually was, being quite short. Jewellery was discreet and elegant, as well: a thin necklace with a misterious pendant hidden under the dress, a bracelet and small bright earrings. She might have seem calm, if it wasn’t for the unquiet movements of her hands, torturing each other.

The Cardinal’s house there in the country was a former hunting residence of a fallen marquise, that the Cardinal received as a gift for some favours he gave long years before the marquise’s bad days: Richelieu made of this little palace quite the place, giving it a more symmetric shape, artistic contents, architectural dignity and very elegant gardens. The Cardinal had arrived a week before, with quite the brooding mood, or so the servants stated to Henri, Virginie’s brother, who made enquiries before sending her.

Still in the black robe he used to wear in Paris, but without the damasc dark red cape, Cardinal Richelieu received his guest, welcoming her with well hidden boredom and exquisit manners, enquiring first on the absence of her husband and then on his health. Virginie was quite impressed: they told her all sorts of things on that man, being old and ugly and curved like a withered cripple, but he was not. She had discovered many things about him, nothing specific of course, the man was really precise and discreet; indeed, he was powerful and intelligent, and, now she was pretty sure, very charming. They continued on gentle small talk for a while, in front of a couple of glasses of ruby red  _vin de Bourgogne._  While the conversation was going on calmly, the Cardinal took the chance to examine her, not simply looking: she had a very sweet look, her dark bright eyes and soft skin, gentle smile, elegant posture and… he gazed at the corner of her lips, at her breast, at the way her fingers hold the glass of wine she was sipping, leaving no trace of make up on it after drinking though her lips had a nice shade of pink.

«I must confess,  _votre Éminence_ , the purpose of my presence. It is very annoying and frankly it makes me feel unconfortable pretend this is just a normal courtesy visit. You are a busy man, an important busy man, and I don’t want to take advantage of your precious time» said she, after a while, catching his eyes gazing, apparently and a bit lustly, at the lace framing her cleavage.

«Tell me, then, Madame De La Gauche, what is this secret. I hope it doesn’t spoil me the pleasure of your company» replied the Cardinal, his head sustained by his arm, his elbow pointed on the arm of the chair.

Virginie tried to start speaking, but failed a couple of times. She was blushing, she was certain of it, and it wasn’t at all an act. Before stepping into that house and especially before meeting him, all was easier in her head.

«Please, don’t be shy. No harm will come from me, I assure you» said then the Cardinal, half amused half impatient.

«I will bound you to that» declared Virginie, and after a deep breath, continued «My brother sent me here to persuade you to take me as your mistress»

Virginie felt so much better after confessing, and especially noting that the Cardinal was not at all annoyed by this notion: he seemed quite intrigued.

«And why is that? You have a husband, and I am a man of the church» asked Richelieu, lightly smoothing his moustache.

«It’s true, I have a husband, and I love him very much» replied Virginie, her fingers playing with the silk and golden bracelet on her wrist «Popes have chidren, I cannot think a man like you does not know women»

«Like me?» enquired the Cardinal. At this point, he could have been sick of the conversation and have her taken out or away, or even killed. But there was something in her eyes, deep down, and he wanted to find out what it was. He sat more composedly on the chair

«Yes, a man of the State, and a man of such charm and wit» explained Virginie, as if it was more than obvious.

«Are you already trying to win me with flattery?» asked him.

«If you think flattery means to state what I have observed, yes» replied her, without a flinch. Her nervousness was transforming into excitement.

«You are sure, then, that I know women. Did not your brother tell you that I already have a mistress? It is well known in Paris, even though they believe I am blinded and deaf at their chatter» the Cardinal was keen to know what this brother of hers knew. The place where he had Adele killed was deserted and out of sight, but maybe there was a witness who had to be disposed of.

«I am not the jealous sort» Virginie stared at his eyes, and they both felt a shiver, down their spine.

«Is your husband the jealous sort?» asked him.

«He wouldn’t let me come here, if he was: my brother and him have arranged the scheme. And now that I have met you, I believe I wouldn’t care if he was that sort or not» said she, on her face the look of a woman wanting to open a gift she well imagines the content of: pure anticipation.

«So, the scheme was theirs, but the will is yours,  _Madame_. But tell me, why, if you love your husband, would you want to be my mistress? I may be full of wit and charm, but I am a Cardinal and the Prime Minister of the state. Why not amuse yourself with some scullery boy, if you need mere satisfaction?» the Cardinal betrayed himself just for a moment: in his voice, the thrill of the mere thought of her in dubious situations was shown, and she did not miss it.

Virginie thought about telling him the truth or not: gaining his favour, that was what she wanted, but at the same time, she knew lying to such a man was very dangerous

«I don’t really like scullery boys» she replied, with a naughty look. When she reprised, however, her voice was more honest and gentle «My husband, as you know, is the son of a fallen Duke. He deserves to get back to his rightful place at court and I would do what is necessary to please him in this. Being your mistress, the only favour I would ask in return would be get  _Monsieur et Madame De La Gauche_ back at the  _Palais_. My brother also would like to, but him and me, we are not of that breed ourselves. For him, I would simply ask the Red Guard uniform. He would like it, anyway»

«So your will would be to please you husband and your brother, not me, in being my mistress. This is most unflattering» replied the Cardinal, still studying her, with the pleasure of discovery in his eyes.

«Partly, my reason is that. But I am sure that having a mistress that lives at court could be nice for your reputation, too» said Virginie, stopping her playing with the bracelet and directly looking at him «but I know this is just chatting. The most important question is this: why should  _you_  take  _me_  as a mistress?»

Richelieu frowned, asking himself if he should just cast her away or listen. This behavior reminded him of Milady, the one he could use as spy, murderer or knight but not as a toy for himself. Yet, the two women had something very different: Milady lacked of all sorts of kindness, while Madame De La Gauche seemed capable of great sweetness, like a mother, or like the most devoted mistress, indeed. Like Adele: the thought of her was still a wound, and that was why he was considering this offer in his mind, and yet trying not to fall for it. Since he did not spoke, Virginie continued.

«I won’t try to persuade you with flattery, we both understood I am not really capable of doing that. But just consider the three things I can offer you» her voice was calm and gentle, her smile encouraging: the resemblance he saw with the two women he thought of disappeared, and all that was left was her «first of all, loyalty. I know that a woman who can betray her husband just to secure herself and him a position seems not very reliable on that, but I can assure you I would not seek anybody else: I will be at your disposal only, always. Secondly, honesty. I will always tell you the truth, in every circumstance. I will not pretend I love you, not unless I really feel it. I know this is not really the custom with mistresses, but I believe that if I should be honest with you, I should be in every way. And finally…» she started the sentence, getting up and closer to him. The Cardinal could see that she was not the most beautiful woman in the world, that she was way too short, that her figure though proportioned not as thin as many others, and yet there was something about her, and especially in her bright and deep eyes. She put a hand on the arm of the chair, her fingers a few inches from his.

«Above all, Cardinal, I can offer you fun. So much fun» her smile was now more shrewd, and yet still similar to a small child that wants to do something she is forbidden to «I have heard and read and seen lots of things, but I never had the chance to experiment them on and with someone who could really and fully appreciate the effort. My husband, gentle soul, sometimes is quite frightened by my loving “bursts”, so to speak» 

The Cardinal looked at her hand, then in her eyes, and his frowning brow stretched, a smile of pure delight and malice appearing on his face. Virginie seemed more than happy to see it. She put her fingers on the back of her neck, unfastening her thin chain and catching it, to offer it to him.

«There is a small little shed, south from here, you can see it from the window. It is like a refuge, a shelter for me. There is where I go when I feel I need it and where I can do whatever I like» explained her, securing the thin chain in his hand, with a key as a pendant, not big enough for a door lock, more fitting to a window lock.

«I shall need some distraction to relax tonight, waiting to know if Cardinal Richelieu may ever even consider the thought of me being in his bed» suggested her, giving herself a few more moments to look at him and then leaving him in anticipation, both their hearts pacing with impatience.

What the Cardinal saw that night in the shed, lurking at its windows, made him resolute.


	3. Hell awaits the wicked, Madame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, all is settled. See how Virginie goes on after her meeting and meet sweet Marie.

The glass of wine was full,and only a few inches were left in the bottle. He drank slowly but without enjoying it, searching for oblivion, headache and, possibly, blackout. The maid arrived at his table, taking the bottle. He ordered another one, in his low voice, making her shiver, but not letting her slip her tray. He was there every night when he was in town, and drank until he was almost forgetting his misery, and she told his colleagues to, please, bring him home. This time, he seemed more tired and desperate and melancholic than ever, so she finally spoke out.

«You should stop,  _Monsieur_. It really looks like you should get a good night sleep, and perhaps rest tomorrow» said she, whose name was Marie, in a sweet tone, really concerned.

The Musketeer called Athos picked his head up, looking at her as if he had thought the wine materialized next to him, and he was unaware of anyone putting a new bottle next to his glass.

«Your concern is noble and fair,  _Mademoiselle_. But bring me another bottle» he said, in that hopeless tone he seemed to have at that point of the drinking nights. Marie couldn’t take it any longer.

«No,  _Monsieur_ , I am not going to. You must go home and get some sleep. You’ve been away for days, it looks like something terrible happened to you, and wine is not a solution!» exclaimed her, halfway between preoccupation and anger - she was angry at him for what he was doing to himself. Athos frowned as she went away, sure that the innkeeper would scold her for forcing a client not to drink anymore.

Marie searched for the other three Musketeers, friends of Athos, and as she found them with her gaze, she reached them.

«I think somebody needs to be escorted home» were her words, said as if it was just a comment, but underneath that sentence was real concern and the three men noticed it. Aramis exchanged a glance with Porthos, but D’Artagnan was already standing up.

«Don’t worry, Marie, I will take him to his chambers» replied the youngest of the group, with a little nodding. Marie sighed a bit too loudly.

Aramis was about to comment, but Porthos took his shoulder firmly, to stop him from saying some of his stupid and unwanted wisdom on Athos and women.

—-

The day after, Marie walked down the main roads of Paris,  _au marché_ , to buy fruits and vegetables for her and her little brothers, those five adorable plagues her parents left her as only inheritance. She gazed upon the window she knew was Athos’, but could not think of any valid excuse to knock at the door and ask him how he was. Continuing her journey, she witnessed something she didn’t expect: in  _Rue Vivienne_ , not far from the  _Louvre_ , a familiar face showed herself.  _Monsieur et Madame De La Gauche_ , her former employers, where evidently moving in the very nice house that, looking south, had a splendid view of the  _Palais-Cardinal_ ,  _les Tuileries_  and  _la Seine_. She got closer, hoping that her former lady would recognize her. Marie smiled, when Virginie’s eyes caught hers, but the lady did not reply, as she was talking to a small, raggedy child. 

The child was delivering her a message, nicely written on quite expensive paper and sealed with red wax, with the Cardinal seal itself. She thanked the little boy and gave him a gold coin to follow Marie, discover where she lived and tell her that  _Madame_  wanted to see her as soon as it was convenient, but she didn’t know when convenient would be, and finally, for that reason, ask her to wait for her instructions.

Virginie and her husband got inside the house: it was well furnished, full of light and elegant, bigger than their previous mansion but not too small for somebody of their newly acquired status. 

« _Ma cherie_ , you must have used all your talents to get us such a place» said Armand De La Gauche, amazed. Virginie smiled, the letter in her hands, still sealed.

«Actually, I haven’t met him again since that first encounter; I only received brief visits from his staff: the first time to let me know he accepted my offer, and the second to give me information about this place» replied his wife, frowning. She hoped not to have caused him doubts, or that the affair wasn’t as boring as business.

«I hope you can repay him soon enough: I wouldn’t like to go back to that awful  _banlieue_ » commented him, looking at the letter. She hid that in her hands and behind her back.

«Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to it» said Monsieur De La Gauche, leaving a small kiss on her cheek and going to supervise the moving activities.

Virginie opened the letter, and read it through. She looked around and, following the instructions she just had, found a big door. It led to a small library, well lighted from the tall ceiling, but narrow, full of books and papers, small stairs to reach the ones too high: a cozy environment, the kind of place you could use as a shelter, to hide from everyone and everything. At the end of a small corridor, one of the shelves seemed different: all titles on them where about Arthurian legends. She pressed firmly her hand in one corner of the light wooden panels and she discovered a hidden door, the books shivering when she pushed the gateway. Following the text on the letter, she walked down that dark corridor, lightened only by some cracks in the walls, directly linked to the pavement of the streets. She walked for a few minutes, sometimes rushing in a little run. She finally reached the end of the corridor, facing another door: she pulled it with anticipation, her heart racing inside her chest. She moved the tapestry that hid it, and entered the room: it was a big, long space, with a large, four poster-bed at the middle of it. It was quite spartan, with toiletries, wardrobes and seats, but apart from the tapestry hiding her gateway and near the other door on the opposite wall, nothing decorated the space.

A maid entered the room, checking if there was a guest or not, and evidently surprised and relieved that she was there, at last. She made a small curtsey and said that the Cardinal would be there soon. Virginie, the letter still in her hands, didn’t know what to do: she didn’t want to disappoint him, but at the same time she knew she wanted to surprise him. She threw the letter in the fireplace, as he instructed in it: no proof, no witnesses. The Cardinal made his entrance a few minutes later, in his black leather suit, still with no cape. She smoothed the fabric of her dress, without a purpose.

«Do you like this place?» asked the Cardinal, getting closer, his hands joined on his back. Virginie looked around for a second.

«It’s very nice» replied then, looking directly at him, and walking towards his figure.

They were distant still, but their eyes met: in his anticipation, in hers curiosity. 

«How was the journey?» asked him again. She did bear his gaze, as he did hers.

«Not too tiresome. I am still full of energy» replied Virginie, her naughty smile there again. He seemed quite impressed.

«And how are you, Your Eminence?» reprised her, trying to understand if he liked to be called like that by her.

«I have to deal with incompetence and foolishness, as ever. My head is already aching, and it’s just passed midday» replied him, quite intrigued, headache or not.

«We can find a remedy for it» said Virginie, making a few steps towards him «I perfectly know how to empty a troubled mind»

Her demeanor was not predatory, or at least she didn’t seem a lioness or a beast: she looked more like a kitten, too small to be a cat, but already passionate about hunting.

«Would you show me?» asked him, betraying his anticipation only for a moment. She shrugged.

«You mean now?» was her answer.

They made a few more steps towards each other.

«Affairs of State wait for me. It depends» stated the Cardinal.

«I need proper time to show you my skills» said her, thoughtful «but that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy each other’s company for now. There is tonight: I hope you don’t stay at the  _Louvre_  when it gets dark outside»

«Would you be worried?» asked him, a few steps more.

«Yes, of course» replied her, without a moment hesitation, moving too.

They met at the middle of the room, but he seemed to try and create a division of just a pace between them. She filled that gap and took his cross with her fingers, fiddling with it.

«I hope you won’t take it off, Your Eminence» said Virginie, seeing that this title amused him.

«You are quite a naughty creature, aren’t you?» asked the Cardinal, finally putting his hands on her hips. 

She was quite shorter than him, so she got up on her toes, and kissed his neck, just behind his left ear. He closed his eyes just briefly, only for the time of that kiss. 

«Wicked and naughty, Eminence» replied her, a whisper in his ear, her breath tickling his skin.

«Hell awaits the wicked, Madame» said he, his voice lower in volume but also deeper in tone.

«Don’t let me go there on my own, then» was her answer, leaving the cross and reaching for the buttons of his coat. He blocked her hands, taking her wrists. She got back on her feet, waiting for instructions. His grip was vaguely hurtful but she didn’t complain. She stared, as nothing happened, betraying the pain with a little twitching of her eye as the grip got worst. 

He conducted her towards the bed, forcing her to turn around and give him her back. He let her go, but she didn’t move: he started to open the retaining clips of the dress, and then, letting it slip to the floor, he untied the laces of her corset. When she was free from it, she turned around to face him again, determined to do what she was starting to before, and tried to open the buttons of his black, leather jacket. She had to struggle with him for it, but she finally did it: underneath it, a thin black linen camisole was hiding his chest. 

But that was enough of her insubordination: he got rid of his jacket, and, turning her around again, her wrist blocked on her back, he throw her on the bed, his cross at his neck swinging between them.

When he left the room, that cross had left its sign on her skin, red and sore, a smile of pure naughty delight was on her face, hidden between the sheets.


	4. Is it time for your morning prayers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witness some good waking up by our favourite men in Paris.

The Cardinal woke up very early in the morning, as it was his costume. Dawn was yawning at the world, its red light painting the hollow walls of his mistress’ chamber. He never rested with any of his mistresses in the past: he usually got what he wanted and left without even say goodbye. It was the first time that he had a woman almost based in his house, though, with a bedroom especially for that purpose under his roof, so that may be the cause of that.

Virginie was still there, that was what had surprised him. She didn’t sneak out and got back home to her husband, as he thought she would. She was covered by the paper-thin white sheet of the bed, naked - unlike him, who didn’t permit her, again, to take off his long black shirt - and asleep, her breast moving up and down, as regularly as her breath. She seemed peaceful and abandoned as only in dreams you can be, nice and calming dreams. 

He looked at her, while she opened her eyes timidly, rubbing them with a deep sigh.

«Good morning, Your Eminence» she said, her voice still drowsy «is it time for your morning prayers?» asked then, smiling quite ironically. 

His smile imitated hers, while his arm surrounded her waist, bringing her closer. She clung to him, her fingers gripping to the fabric of his shirt.

«Even God is still asleep» replied the Cardinal, touching the scratches his cross left on her back the day and the night before. She frowned and hissed a little, for her skin burned, but didn’t move.

«Yet His Cardinal is quite awake…» stated Virginie, her hand moving down his chest, his stomach and beyond. His face showed nothing more than a naughty grin, but she could feel otherwise. 

«Captain Tréville will be here, soon. His responsibilities and problems keeps him awake and we have things to discuss» said him, with the tone of someone who preferred to be tortured.

«Tréville? Of the musketeers?» asked her, dubious «I thought you had your own guard and had nothing to do with them»

«The Duke of Savoy will be here soon and since he is in charge of that body of rascals, I must decide with him how to proceed for protection and escort of the King: one must be more than careful on those matters» he explained. He knew whores can ask things just to show they are concerned, and you can usually tell when they fake it. But Virginie was interested, she was: as well as earnest in her moves. The Cardinal almost moaned, trying not to show how she was affecting his focus.

«Responsibilities and duties… one can quite imagine why you are so tired of it all» replied her then, kissing the corner of his lips. She didn’t pity him, her voice was concerned and yet gave no commiseration. 

«I cannot leave this country to its destiny: without a strong guidance, we would succumb to Spain or England. I cannot permit that» declared the Cardinal, firmly, his sharp mind already at work. Virginie looked at him with pride, as being his mistress was just an honour. She took advantage of his loosened embrace and parted from him. The Cardinal seemed disappointed. She sighed.

«The sun is up already… it’s better if you go and take care of the nation» she said, finding her petticoat and putting it on. She took his cross in her hand, and kissed it. He stood up, sitting on the bed instead of lying down, but still he seemed not too keen on leaving. 

«Are you kicking me out of my own bed?» asked the Cardinal, defiantly. She smiled.

«Yes. The night is gone and you are the Prime Minister» continued her, kissing him and gently but firmly pushing his shoulders to let him stand up, and following him down the bed.

«Will you wait here?» said then Richelieu, reaching for his black clothes. Virginie put a finger on her chin, theatrically thoughtful.

«I think I’ll take care of myself» said she, searching for her corset and dress too «but only to please you» she added, catching his glance. 

Then, he did something she did not expect. Once fully dressed, with his leather armour on, he got closer, stretching his hand to take hers. She put her right hand in his, and he kissed it, leaving her alone, confused and troubled, but strangely happy.

—-

Athos woke up just after the sun began to shine. That morning, he remembered after sinking his head into freezing water, Tréville had to instruct them on the Duke of Savoy visit, happening on the day after that. He didn’t remember how he got home, or in his bed, and his jaw was hurting a bit: he suspected Porthos had taken his revenge on Athos’ skills as an anesthetist.  

A knock on his door distracted him, still in breeches and shirt only, trying to understand what to do first, and how to let that horrid drunken headache go away. 

« _Entrez!_ » he said, in his low, powerful voice.

Marie, the maid at the inn, came in: she was a bit shaky, visibly embarrassed, with a small basket in her arms and a nervous smile.

«May I help you, Mademoiselle?» asked Athos, recognizing her after a few moments. She seemed not to know what to begin with.

«I… well, your friends brought you home last night after the… seventh bottle, I remember» replied her, measuring her words and speaking them regularly, as if breaking the rhythm would make her fall into pieces.

«Seven…» murmured him, thoughtful «a couple more than usual»

«Yes» confirmed her, blushing since she practically stated that she counted them every night «well, as I was saying… your friend brought you home and I know that after that amount of wine, the morning is always tough to face» explained Marie «My father made this… lotion, I think that’s the name, that you can put on your head and… basically, it makes the headache go away»

Athos was listening, politely, but couldn’t understand why she was talking about that, to him, in that house and in that moment, and where was she trying to go to.

«It’s very silly, really. I just… just wanted to relieve you a bit, if I may…?» continued her, blushing even more. Athos took just a moment more to get all the pieces together and then, with his calming low voice, replied.

«Thank you very much, Mademoiselle, you are very kind. But I must ask you to seek elsewhere someone who could require such services. I would only be a waste of your time, and no coin to your pockets» 

Marie did not quite catch what he meant, at first, but then she realised that he might had mistaken her for a prostitute.

«Sir, I hope you really don’t think I am that kind of woman who seeks the lonely and desperate to… sell myself!» exclaimed her, outraged.

He could look at her: her tone was very offended, and he didn’t want to offend her in any way.

«I must leave… I have embarrassed myself enough» concluded Marie, turning towards the door, tears of rage and shame waiting to burst out.

«Please» said he, making a few steps towards her. She stopped and confronted him. She had never seen him in broad daylight, well awake and not with his uniform or fighting. He seemed the most noble and gentle of men, and she was now sure he was.

«I apologise, I should have never spoken like that. You were only trying to help» said he, and she just nodded, not knowing what to say.

«Now, I am sorry, I must go to the musketeers’ garrison. My captain wishes to see me» 

Marie was still speechless, but went out and he walked her to the street.

«Forget about me, Marie» said Athos then «I am hopeless, and you deserve more than that»

She watched him go, wondering if he had asked her name to one of his friends or her boss, and falling a little bit more in love with that hopeless man.


	5. Are you asking me to work for you again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it’s time to take advantage of the fact that this story is set in Paris. And Paris means shopping and fashion even for a couple of lucky ladies in the 17th century!

The servant entered the room and asked  _Madame_  if he could let her guest in. Virginie smiled and nodded.

«Of course, of course!» was her quick answer.

Marie entered the parlour, feeling a bit awkward. It had been three years since she had to leave the De La Gauche family, and even though she was the one to be sacked in a moment of her life when she most needed employment, she really liked Madame Virginie, who had always been gentle with her. The fact that she didn’t ignore her on the streets and send someone to fetch her seemed odd but nice to Marie.

«Please, do come in» said Virginie, when she met her eyes, showing her a small couch where she could sit. Marie was still stranded but she sat down, slowly. Virginie settled on the armchair just near the sofa, and she looked concerned and embarrassed.

«I really do not know where to start» Virginie said, tormenting her hands on her lap «I am really sorry for dismissing you, three years ago. I really, really didn’t want you to go, you were my favourite maid, but we had no money left and I didn’t know how to cope with everything» 

Marie nodded a bit, with a little smile.

«Don’t worry, Madame. I can understand» she replied, waiting for her to continue.

«You have always been so gentle» said Virginie, a bit ashamed «I didn’t know about your parents’ death, or I would rather try and convince my husband to dismiss somebody else» 

Marie seemed to get a bit annoyed by this.

«I can care about myself and my brothers, Madame. I do not need pity, from you or anyone else» replied Marie, noting instantly that Virginie got affected by the tone of those words.

«Please, forgive me, Madame. I spoke in anger, and it is not your fault if people tend to think that I can’t take care of myself» said then the maid, and Virginie smiled as nothing happened.

«Do not worry, Marie. I have not called you here just to apologise for the last time. I have a proposal for you» Madame De La Gauche stood up and sat beside Marie.

«I am in need of a personal maid, someone I can trust completely. You know I am not good with lies and deceits, but I have secrets to keep, very important secrets, and I could not think of anyone else» explained Virginie, trying to read in her eyes what she thought about it.

«Are you asking me to work for you again?» demanded Marie, more curious than confused.

«Yes, and I am promoting you: you will not be just a maid, but my personal maid. You will be my first  _confidant_  and my most trustful friend and ally. I must rely on you at every hour and in every situation. Do you think you can do that?» explained Virginie «do not worry for your brothers: they can live here, in the house. They will be treated as part of the family, of course, not as workers»

Marie seemed honoured and she knew she could not get a better job: to be a nice Paris lady’s personal maid it took many years in the business or high breeding, and she had neither. At the same time, accepting that job meant to leave the tavern, and so to leave Athos. “Don’t be silly, Marie” she thought “you cannot risk the welfare of your family for someone who told you to forget about him”.

«I am deeply honoured  _Madame_ …» she started, humbled.

«Will you consider it?» asked Virginie, impatient.

«Actually, I really think I will take it» replied Marie, her voice stronger «and I can start as soon as you want me to»

Virginie smiled and hugged her, letting her go quite quickly.

«Sorry, I know it’s not proper, but… I couldn’t ask for more!» she exclaimed, happily «Thank you very much, Marie. You can actually start now: I need to do some shopping, for the both of us»

She got up, as Marie did. They spoke about arrangements: they decided to go to a good cloth merchant and then to a good tailor, if the merchant didn’t have one in his shop. Then, they would go and settle things with the tavern where Marie was serving tables and finally took her brothers to their new home.

Marie knew this merchant, Bonacieux, who seemed to have some of the best clothing materials around, so she brought Virginie to his house and shop. Madame Constance Bonacieux welcomed them very kindly and Virginie asked for some of the best of their fabrics, and to the amazement of both the merchant’s wife and her maid, also some of the most expensive. While they were settling prices and delivery, and inquiring on possible tailors, a young man came in, armed with a long slim sword and a musket.

«Sorry, I didn’t want to intrude or interrupt anything» said he, while the three women where looking at him: Virginie was curious, because he definitely didn’t seem to be Monsieur Bonacieux, Marie was surprised because she recognized Athos’ friend and she didn’t know he had lodging there, and Constance was a bit annoyed by his presence while she was settling business.

«This is Monsieur D’Artagnan. He has lodgings here while he’s training to be a Musketeer» said Constance, visibly bothered by the fact that she should make introductions. Virginie bowed her head, gently

«Honoured to make your acquaintance, Monsieur. I am Madame De La Gauche and this is my maid, Marie» replied then, while Marie smiled, a bit uncomfortably.

«The honour is mine, Madame. I have already had the pleasure of meeting your maid» said then D’Artagnan, bowing to both of them. Constance threw him a scary, furious look, maybe even a bit jealous. The boy looked at her, confused, realizing that maybe he was really intruding, and left the room, so that the women could finally settle everything. 

«So you know the gentleman, Marie?» asked Virginie, her tone chatty, when they got home, after discussing with the owner of the tavern and showing her brothers their lodgings. They were looking at some old dresses of Virginie, the most beautiful she could afford before. Some of them were quite nice, but needed to be repaired.

«He frequents the tavern where I used to work, Madame» explained Marie, tranquil. 

«He’s quite handsome, with those puppy eyes and bright smile» added the mistress. Marie didn’t really know how to reply.

«He’s a nice man, Madame. A loyal friend to his comrades» explained the maid, thinking of Athos, and if he would notice that she was no longer bringing him wine.

Virginie understood that maybe was one of those comrades she was thinking about, but she didn’t rage over the subject. She put down the dress she was holding in her hands, to see how it looked on her without trying it on, and gave it to her maid, waking her from her daydreaming about Athos.

«I did tell you, Marie, that I needed to keep secrets and that was your job to help me in this. I think it’s time I tell you. Nobody can know» started Virginie. Marie nodded, giving her full attention to her.

«All of this, the house and the money, it’s not my husband’s doing. It’s mine» explained Virginie, slowly but firmly «I became Cardinal Richelieu’s mistress»

Marie was shocked, and made a little step backwards, instinctively. 

«But Madame… your husband, he…» she muttered, dazed.

«It was his idea, and my brother’s. I met the Cardinal, we talked about it and… » continued Virginie, as she was talking about a normal business. Marie couldn’t understand. She thought of Monsieur and Madame De La Guache as tranquil, normal gentlefolk, good Christians at least.

«But it’s sin, Madame, deadly sin. You cannot betray your husband with another man. Especially, I suppose, a man of the church as the Cardinal!» said then the maid, upset by that idea. Virginie got closer to her, and took her hands.

«I think you are concerned for me, for my soul, and I thank you for it» said she, with a little smile «But I don’t want to live a life of solitude and misery because I fell in love with the wrong man and made the silly decision of marrying him, years ago. There are things you don’t know, and…» she shook her head: if the idea of a church’s man taking a mistress was distressing for her, the truth about Monsieur De La Gauche was too much, for now «do not worry for me, Marie. I took this decision considering all that I had to, and I am happy with it. I really am»

Marie did not seem convinced, and was still worried, but got more tranquil.

«I will keep your secret, Madame, even if I do not approve of it» she swore.

«Please, just not think less of me for it» asked Virginie, for she really cared about Marie’s opinion on her.

«You’re a kind woman, and you gave me a job without asking me to do anything I don’t want to. I may disapprove of your conduct, Madame, but I would not judge you» explained Marie, and all was well between them.

Virginie told her, then, about the library and the passage to the Palais Cardinal. Before leaving her, Marie asked one last thing, naively:

«Do you love the Cardinal, Madame?»

Virginie looked away from her, with a little smile.

«I don’t know, Marie. I really don’t know» was her answer.


	6. I need you to be a good friend, and keep my secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny secret in unveiled...

Virginie was brushing her hair at her toiletries, in a long ivory dressing gown which covered her dusty rose lace nightdress. She was getting ready to cross the secret passage and go to the Cardinal: the evening had just begun, the light slipping away with the sun, setting on the horizon. 

Her husband came into her room, passing through the door at her back: she saw him in the mirror, but did not move, even though that appearance had surprised her.

«Are you ahead to the Cardinal's chambers?» asked Monsieur De La Gauche, perfectly dressed and regardless of the déshabillé state of his wife. She stopped brushing her hair, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

«Of course» replied her, putting down the brush and fixing her gown.

«How are things going? I hope you're not disappointing him in any way» said then De La Gauche, getting closer, with a tone of impatience. She turned to him, obviously offended.

«Of course I am not. Why are you so concerned, mon cher?» Virginie stood up, her face serious, looking firmly in his eyes, even though he was much taller than her.

«He promised to get us to Paris and present us to court soon, I'm just worried...» De La Gauche started to say, but she interrupted him.

«He said "as soon as possible"» she pointed out «the visit of the Duke of Savoy brought him some headaches: things to do and people to manage. I am sure that when all things are settled, he will present us. He is a busy man, you know»

Monsieur De La Gauche got closer to her, with a sarcastic grin on his face that Virginie knew too well and disliked.

«I have always told you, cherie, that you fall in love too easily» said he, lightly touching her cheek. She stepped back, hurt by his words.

«As I fell too easily for you, you mean» Virginie replied, and his smile became more ironic.

«Touché» he said, shrugging.

«Let me do my own work, and you'll see» declared Virginie, simply, taking another, last look at the mirror «only because you can't appreciate me, it doesn't mean someone else will do the same»

«But I do appreciate you!» exclaimed De La Gauche. Virginie looked wounded but fierce.

«You never, ever, made me feel appreciated. And you never will, won't you?» asked her, shooking her head.

«If you mean in bed, ma tourterelle douce, I just hope the Cardinal can make something out of you where I couldn't» was his answer.

Virginie wanted to slap him in his face, but the only thing that she could do was being mortified and hurt, her eyes full of tears that she struggled to retain.

«It is not my fault, if you are... a freak and a monster» she said, her voice trembling nervously. He looked like an offended king, with the power to destroy whomever opposed him. He took her wrist, firmly. The man his brother-in-law, and the entire world but her wife, knew was vanished, in those moments.

«Go to that old, grey man and make whatever you women do to let church men sing their hymns. I want to get to court, and I will» hissed the man, letting her go with loathing and leaving her alone. She dried her eyes, sighed and focused on the meeting ahead, on His Eminence the Cardinal Richelieu, who had been more a man to her in those weeks than Monsieur De La Gauche had ever been in twelve years of marriage.

\---- 

Marie woke up early that morning, as ever. The sun was not shining yet, and she could hear the silence of the house. Her brothers were asleep, in the chambers Virginie promised would have been only theirs. Madame remained true to all her promises: the boys were treated as part of the family, but not spoiled, as they were encouraged to work in the house only if it was not too much for them and if those jobs could be useful for their education, in any way. Marie was happy and felt safe in that environment, but she couldn't help to think about Athos the musketeer, about his drinking habit and his safety. Was he still passing all his evenings at the inn, swallowing wine until he passed out? Was he struggling every morning to get up and do his noble job of protecting the king?

She got up and prepared for another day slightly melancholic but serene. First thing, she waited for Madame De La Gauche to come back from the secret passage, as she never spent the night home. She seemed reassured but not calm. She asked almost immediately if Monsieur was in the house, but Marie didn't know.

«I do not wish to see him now, but when you do find him let him know we will be presented at court in one week time» said Virginie, sitting down and sighing.

«Are you alright, Madame? Did the Cardinal...?» Marie began to say, too embarrassed to continue. 

«I'm fine, Marie, don't worry, really. The Cardinal didn't... well, he did, actually» said Virginie, a naughty smile on her face that made her maid blush. She saw that Marie felt awkward, so asked her to prepare a bath for her. 

«I really cannot understand, Madame, how can you do this and what do you see in him» said Marie, helping her to get into the bathtub and then moving around the chamber to do her maid duties, as to cleaning and tidy up, as well as check the state of the dresses and all objects needed.

Virginie smiled, while gently slipping into the hot water and feeling its benefits.

«He is a busy man, a powerful and charming one. I know people only see an old man of the church, a nasty and evil man, but he is not, not entirely. He's not cruel, he's just practical: he does what he must, for the King and for France. He's very gentle with me, I can assure you» said the mistress, while her maid was not really convinced.

«Judging by the marks and bruises you have, I wouldn't say so» Marie replied. Virginie smiled, leaning on the edge of the tub.

«By "gentle" I mean that he is not rude with me. He is, as I said, practical, and when he wants something, he takes it. And yet, by taking it, he does not disrespect me, and I quite enjoy it, too» said the mistress with a wicked smile and a naughty tone. Marie was quite embarrassed now, so she stopped talking.

«Monsieur De La Gauche, he never gave you such bruises» said then the girl, as she was thinking about something and said it out loud without real intention to do so.

Virginie said nothing at first, but stiffened visibly, and her expression was cold and angry.

«He did. They faded from my skin but not from my heart» said Virginie, shaking from pure rage «he was never a gentleman, to me. He took advantage of my innocence and affection, using the love I had for him for his own purposes, and... »

Marie was frightened by this behavior: she thought they were a happy couple, everybody thought so. Her mistress calmed down, seeing the effect on her maid and smiled.

«As I said, do not worry about me, Marie. I need you to be a good friend, and keep my secrets, remember?» asked Virginie, reaching out of the tub with her arms. Marie took her hand, but both were distracted: the sound of a battle came up from the street, and when Marie went to the window to check, her knees threatened to make her fall. Athos the musketeer stood on the ground, surrounded by his friends and comrades, blood all over his uniform.


	7. Sorry it took so long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, what will Virginie do with a wounded musketeer?

Virginie asked Marie to help her dry and dress up, and they both went down to the ground floor to see what happened. Viriginie’s brother, Henri, all dressed in his leather uniform of the Red Guards, had a bad bruise on his forehead and his tunic had been tore, undoubtedly, by a sword. Just outside the door, behind him, the musketeers Aramis and Porthos, together with the young D’Artagnan, were trying to understand what to do to help their injured friend, Athos. Marie surpassed Henri, heading towards Athos, while Virginie stopped at her brother.

«What happened?» asked she, lightly touching her brother’s forehead. He took her wrist and put her hand down.

«Musketeer scum, they tried to murder me!» replied Henri, in such an anger that almost frightened his sister. He was never a brute, just a coward, perhaps. 

«It seems you did the same» said Virginie, looking at the small group.

«Please, Madame, he’s bleeding too fast!» exclaimed D’Artagnan, recognizing Madame De La Gauche, from Bonacieux’s shop.

Virginie thought for a moment about the consequences of putting a musketeer, injured or not, under her roof. She was the Cardinal’s mistress, there was a secret passage to the Palais where he lived, and she was not a good liar. Yet, her maid was very upset, and her brother, who was babbling something about self defence and other idiotic nonsense, had given offence to a man who needed medication. She was not a cruel woman, she could not stand to see people suffer - if not for their own pleasure, of course.

«Get him in. Marie, take him to you room, for now» she ordered, while Henri was bewildered. 

«He’s a musketeer!» protested him.

«And this is your doing, Red Guard!» shouted Porthos, the biggest of them. Virginie almost made a step back. He was not violet, though, she could see it in his face.

«My brother Henri being responsible or not, rest assured that your friend will be cured» said Virginie, placing herself between them. Porthos calmed down, while Henri left the house in frustration, to meet and report to his garrison. 

«We are much obliged, Madame» thanked the other musketeer, helping Porthos and D’Artagnan to move Athos to Marie’s room, which was at the opposite end of the house than her small library.

«It is the duty of every Christian to help one another» replied Virginie, with a smile. 

«Even if that Christian has a Red Guard in her family?» added Porthos.

«Why not?» shrugged Virginie, following them into the room, and then asking Marie to call the physician straight away.

«Your brother called us scum» D’Artagnan pointed out. 

«I didn’t, Monsieur D’Artagnan» said Virginie «you seem more good friends than scum to me»

The three men were all very caring of Athos, you could read it in their eyes. The handsome one, Aramis, was checking the wound, while Porthos was helping D’Artagnan to let the injured friend rest on the right position to avoid too much bleeding.

«This needs needlework, and fast» said Aramis «could you please give us clear water, bandages, needle and thread?»

Virginie was impressed, and a bit worried.

«The physician will be here soon, shouldn’t we just wait?» she asked.

«There is no time, Madame» replied the musketeer. Virginie called her staff, and asked for their help. They provided all that was necessary and she waited outside the room, until Marie returned and the doctor went in, helping the soldiers. Marie was pale and even more worried than her mistress. Virginie took her hands

«All will be fine, Marie. And when it will be so, Athos must leave» declared Virginie. Marie was stunned, and let her hands slip away from hers.

«You know what is at stake. I cannot afford him to be here, not even now. It’s a risk I can’t take. I could not let him die on the streets, you’re far too fond of him and I am not so cruel to destroy the life of a man for my own pleasure» said Madame De La Gauche, resolute and yet visibly worried. Marie understood, she was talking about the Cardinal, the man Marie could not stand, but whom secrets she would keep, for her mistress’ sake.

After a while, the men got out of the room and Virginie pretended to ask Marie if she could take care herself of the injured, as she would do anyway, and let her in. 

«A few days, Madame, and he’ll be perfectly well. If you can keep him here, safe and resting…» started the physician, and Madame De La Gauche nodded.

«Of course, but not a moment more. My brother is in the Red Guard, and I believe he won’t be happy to know I gave shelter to his enemy» explained Virginie «I couldn’t guarantee his safety, you see»

She was surprised at her own courage and resolution: she did avoid the real issue, with much effort and concentration, but she did. She paid the doctor and let him go, and refused to take money from Aramis and Porthos.

«This was a favour I gave to you and my maid. I will be glad to have one in return, if I need it» said Virginie, with a warm and sweet smile. They bowed and take off their hats.

«May I know at least your names? I only know Monsieur D’Artagnan» added her, amused by their embarrassed faces.

«I am Porthos, at your service. Our injured friend is Athos, and this is Aramis» said the darkest of them, and Virginie suddenly remembered her brother’s words. “Aramis, I love Aramis”, she said, the Cardinal’s former mistress, before dying. Now that Virginie could see him, she could not blame her too much: he was handsome, loyal, elegant and charming. And yet, she realised that if he would try and “steal” her for more than one night of pleasures, she would not follow him, and that awareness relieved and scared her. She made a little courtesy. 

«I’ll send a message to the Musketeers’ garrison, when your friend Athos will be better» she promised and dismissed them.

—-

Athos opened his eyes, slowly and with difficulty. The room was lighted only by some candles and it was already dark outside. He tried to move, but felt stings on his side. Someone shushed him and tried to stop his hands from reaching the exact point where he had his stitches.

«Please, don’t… Stay calm. You’re safe, now»

A soft, familiar voice spoke.

«Marie?» asked Athos, almost misbelieving his own senses. She smiled and kissed his hand, instinctively, then blushed and tried to pretend she didn’t do it, and let it go.

«Where am I? What happened?» said he again, not picturing the room and his past few hours.

«There was a fight, Madame De La Gauche and your friends took you inside and cured you» explained Marie.

«What are you doing here?» asked him, still a bit confused.

«I…» she wanted to say she was there for him, to take care of him, and yet could not

«I was waiting for you» 

Athos caught her hand, again.

«Sorry it took so long» said him, smiling. Her heart flipped and felt very warm.

Marie wanted to say that she would not give up on him, that she was there only for him… she wanted to say many things to that silent, melancholy man. 

«Rest now, I’ll stay with you» she promised, stroking the back of his hand, lightly. Athos closed his eyes, and fell asleep, for the first time in years without the aid of wine.


	8. My loyalty, you know that it’s complete and absolute, don’t you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, now we know what Virginie would do with a wounded musketeer in the house… but what would the Cardinal think about that?

Virginie was wearing a long, black lace gown, just under an embroidered corset topped with another piece of garment and closed on the back by three lace ribbons. She was like a little present to unwrap with curiosity and anticipation. She crossed the library, locking the door behind herself and making sure that the fake shelf that led to the secret corridor would look perfectly normal, just in case somebody forced in. She arrived in her chamber at the Cardinal's Palais. There was nobody there but she could hear a voice, behind the door that linked the room to the Cardinal's study. It was a woman's voice. She felt some sort of fear, or anger, maybe jealousy, and reached the keyhole, from which she could listen more clearly but couldn't see a thing.

«Keep an eye on them, and stay out of trouble» the voice was the Cardinal's.

«Did you take a new mistress?» asked the woman she heard before. She tried to see who she was, but failed.

«Why should you care if I did?» was his answer.

«Can you trust her? We both know what happened to the last one» 

Virginie could almost see her wandering around the empty space of his office.

«This is no concern of yours. Go back to your job, and let me deal with my own affairs. I can do it much better than you, surely. Or should I remind you how much time you wasted on D'Artagnan?»

She didn't reply, but Virginie could hear her leave. She stepped aside, going back to the centre of the room, pretending she didn't hear: but she was no good liar, not on this things. The Cardinal entered the chamber: he was wearing his most elegant robe, mostly black, but also red on his bust - he wore it for his triumph over Maria De Medici - visibly in a brooding mood. He was relieved and surprised to see her, or that was the impression he gave her. She smiled at him, getting closer.

«Something wrong, Your Eminence?» asked Virginie, frowning slightly, caressing his forehead and cheek «What troubles you?»

He seemed less sure of himself than usual, his gaze upon her, lost for a moment in her deep dark eyes. After a few seconds, however, the look on his face was stained with anger.

«Your brother told me there is a musketeer under your roof» 

His voice was full of disappointment, in his own eyes she had betrayed him. She looked afraid and wounded, but tried to keep herself together.

«He was dying on the street, I couldn't...» she tried to explain. He stepped back, and something broke inside her.

«What if he finds the hidden door, in the library?» asked the Cardinal. Virginie decided she wouldn't play the simpering, flirty whore. She went towards him, and took his hand and got on her tiptoes and spoke to his right ear. He didn't fight it: her perfume was tickling his senses.

«I closed the fake shelf and locked the door of the library myself» she explained, and he could see the necklace were she secured the key: locked from the inside.

«As soon as he gets on his feet, I'll send him home. In doing so, I will be regarded as generous and kind, and no one will suspect of us» she continued, back on her feet, letting his hand go and taking his cross in her fingers. 

«Who were you talking to?» Virginie asked finally, not daring to look at his face. Her voice lost its confidence for a moment.

«What did you hear?» answered back the Cardinal. She gazed upon him now.

«I heard a woman, asking you about my loyalty. You know that it's complete and absolute, don't you?»

Her voice was a promise, a request and a declaration. The Cardinal, surprisingly, smiled. And he did it sincerely, no doubt about that, almost tenderly.

«Come to bed» he whispered. She closed her eyes for a moment, almost melting inside. He conducted her by her hands, and when they were close enough, he undid the ribbons on her back and the laces of her corset, while she unbuttoned his ceremonial robes.

«Armand...» she murmured, and he stopped. Their eyes met, and all else had no importance, for a long, everlasting moment.

When they finally parted, breathless and exhausted, she could not let go of him: she laid at his side, lightly touching his skin, with her finger on his chest and with her lips on his shoulder.

«I wonder how your husband can bear to be parted from you, on nights like these» said the Cardinal, almost surprising her «does he reclaim his own rights on you during the day, perhaps?»

It was clear that the thought of compromising behaviour at the light of the sun was intriguing for him. Virginie searched for his gaze.

«He does not. He never claims them, actually» she explained, not very sad about it.

«He must not know what he's losing, I'm sure» said the Cardinal, in an unmistakable tone and glance. Virginie took it as a compliment, of course.

«I'm not his type, so to speak» she cleared up, her expression turning from indifference to concern after a few seconds of silence «On our wedding night, he called his manservant. I was barely 18, and I knew nothing of love or marriage. I was scared, very scared. He undressed me, and then he did the same to his manservant and himself. I was embarrassed, and shaking like a leaf. Then, they taped my chest in strips until it looked like I was a kid or a boy. I couldn't understand what they wanted to do, but I was sure they wanted to hurt me, they already were, for the strips were very tight. After that, without a word of explanation, he took me and his servant in the same way, and brutally. I fell ill for several days and he made me feel ashamed of his sinful conduct as it was my fault, as it was my sin also, and he never said a word to me on the subject, afterwards, leaving me in doubt and confusion»

A mixture of thoughts were chasing each other in the mind of the Cardinal. He had no interest for those unnatural desires, though he was well aware that some man had them. He never encountered them directly, not in those situations at least. The idea that Virginie could not be wanted in a man's bed was not conceivable for him, not after discovering her many talents. Where did she learnt them, then? The only thing he was certain of, was that he wanted to know more. Virginie was shaking now, but from anger. The Cardinal embraced her with his right arm, without even thinking about it.

«My personal maid explained to me that Monsieur De La Gauche had always had a lover in the house, disguised as his personal servant, usually fine boys, well paid to lay with him. She convinced me that the man I married and loved was a monster, and I found out he was. He decided that, since he could make no use of me in the bedroom, he would find a way to gain profit from me otherwise. He decided I should become a rich man's mistress, to give him money for his own desires and pleasures, of any kind» continued Virginie, noticing the subject was interesting to him. His grip on her waist was firm but pleasant.

«He was a nice man, a lonely and lovable widower who had a wide knowledge and interesting fantasy about lovemaking. He was very gentle, and sweet. He was my first real lover, my guide and master. I became very fond of him and he definitely cared for me very much» she explained. The Cardinal seemed very pleased to hear it, in large part for the possibilities that could came into her mind for their particular encounters and, without realising, in another very small but strong part, that she had somebody who treated her properly.

She sighed and talked again:

«Then he died very quickly of a fever he caught on a journey to the south, and from then on I decided I would do what I liked, and satisfy the whims of my husband just if they pleased me too» she stated, a small naughty and wild smile of triumph. She was of a stunning beauty, not a normal and fake beauty, but the one that is not physical, more philosophical.

«So, I am to understand this situation pleases you» declared the Cardinal, smiling in the same way as she was.

«Very much, Your Eminence» replied Virginie, losing for a moment her own smile, thinking that the sound of that title was no more as good as it was. He thought it too, but they did not share that in words, only in spirit. A few moments of silence gave that warm night of late spring a sense of calm and perfection.

«Now rest, my love. Tomorrow, I'll arrange your audience with the King» whispered Richelieu, and Virginie smiled again. She nestled in his embrace, like a kitten. 

«Goodnight, Armand» she murmured, and he almost imagined to hear her purr.

While slowly falling asleep, in a small hidden corner of his black heart, a question was starting to plant herself, as a seed of doubt: was she still in love with her husband? She had promised him to be always true and sincere with him, and he didn't know yet, but he was too afraid to hear that answer to ask her.


	9. So, how is court?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now it’s time for Richelieu to pay his debt for the very special company of Virginie to her husband.

Monsieur and Madame De La Gauche were waiting for their turn in front of the big doors that led into the Royal audience hall. Part of the court was outside, looking at them as they were animals at a fair: he was so much taller than her, and dressed much differently, that they seemed two people who met just outside the  _Palais_ , without having arranged it and without knowing each other. The nobles whispered and giggled, pointed discretely and marveled.

«Your outfit is definitely too pompous» said Virginie, her voice was crossed, but her face calm and reassuring: she was improving her skills in lying.

«Your dress is too simple, I’d rather say» replied Monsieur De La Gauche, far more accustomed to look serene, as if nothing in the world was annoying him.

«It’s simple but it’s elegant, unlike yours» whispered her, now her voice showed her anger. Her husband had not time to reply: they were walked inside the hall. They both marveled at the enormity of the space, at the frescoes on the ceiling and paintings on the walls. 

Monsieur and Madame De La Gauche were terrified: he had been waiting for that moment for years, and he was afraid something could go wrong, but he would not permit it; she was scared that she could do something silly or stupid, reveal to the world her secret, especially now that she had seen the Cardinal.

Richelieu was standing next to the King. Louis and his wife sat on their thrones, him bored and her in perfect, elegant stillness. You could tell the King was annoyed to be standing there, receiving people he couldn’t care less about, but she, oh she was an example of conduct, smiling now that the two subjects were approaching.

Virginie dared to glance at the Cardinal, and he returned her gaze for a little but eternal moment: no one noticed it. Everyone thought that Virginie was looking down at the floor by her humbleness, and that the Cardinal was stepping forward to present her husband, and so he did.

«So, Cardinal, this Monsieur De La Gauche is an old acquaintance?» asked the King, a bit more lively, since the Cardinal was very dear to his heart.

«His father was a very close friend» lied Richelieu, without shame. Virginie looked up at the Queen, and thought she could never be as beautiful or sweet as Anne looked, but she was much mistaken. Her simple dress, of a pale pink colour, was perfect for her skin, which was not as white as others, her jewelry so discreet that gave her elegance and prestige without guile. The Cardinal thought that night would never come soon enough. 

Richelieu explained to the King, very briefly, that Monsieur De La Gauche’s father was that Duke of  _Charente_ , who fell into a very bad luck and went bankrupt for some not extremely foreseeing investments. The title had not been used since then, but it was never taken away from the family.

«I welcome you both at court! It’s always nice to have some new friends around, isn’t it?» asked, naively and cheerfully, the King. The Cardinal agreed but said nothing more, and the couple was dismissed. 

—-

«So, how is court?» asked the Cardinal, in the silence and shadows of the night. Virginie sighed.

«I hate it» replied her, playing with the laces of the top of his black  _chemise_. They lied in bed, on their sides, in front of each other, very close.

«You hate it?» said then Richelieu, with an ironic yet charming smile, like he was listening to a child who states she hates something that, later in life, she would much appreciate.

«They all stare, uncomfortably. They stare and point and whisper behind backs. They are ready to speak ill of the person they were praising a moment before, just when he or she turns his or her back. It’s awful. And they treat me like a baby, like I don’t know how to handle myself. They say they want to help, but they really are making a fool of me» explained her, still playing with his strings, and looking at his throat, almost hypnotized.

«Shallow, selfish, deceivers and liars, that’s what they are. But give them what they want, try not to be interesting, and they will leave you alone» he advised her, then smiled a bit more «or do you feel that this hint is too paternalistic?»

Her smile appeared and was as naughty as he expected it to be. She looked directly into his eyes.

«I wouldn’t say paternalistic, if you meant good» she said, leaving the laces and letting her hands slip under the cloth «the worst thing is not being able of stay with you, or talk to you. It’s horrible to listen to those voices that insulted you for your intelligence and curse you for the services you do for your country, by advising the King. I hate to listen to that, without the ability to defend you»

Cardinal Richelieu had had many mistresses, in his life. They were all interested in receiving money and gifts, of course, not in the man himself. Their way of complimenting and pleasing him were all whore-like, there was no description more fitting: their words sounded simpering and artificial, as their moans. And yet, that small, imperfect creature, 20 years younger than him, was sincere. He knew now she wasn’t able to lie, not convincingly. He could feel the light touch of her fingers at the base of his neck, on his shoulder. It was his turn now to look down, at her neck, reaching it with his nose and mouth, leaving a kiss on it. His mustache tickled her skin, and she closed her eyes, whispering his name and recording that moment for those in which they had to be parted.

—-

Marie counted them all, twice, in panic. It was dark outside, her brothers were not loud enough to annoy the house, and were too awake to go to sleep. She decided to silence and stop them, anyway, for she had a very serious problem. With a strong yet simple and gentle word, she succeeded: she was good with kids, after spending all her life with so many. Pierre, or little Pierre as they all called him, was missing. 

«Who saw him last? And don’t lie, I just… I just need to know where he is, you won’t be punished» she said, even though all her brothers knew she meant “maybe you won’t”. They were worried though, as she was.

«I think he went to the entrance hall and then… I don’t know, I don’t remember him since» explained one of the eldest. Marie ordered them to stay there, and they did not dare to disobey, not with her so afraid.

She ventured outside, and was ready to search the entire city, as broad as it was, but she took a deep, long breathe of relieve: two musketeers, with their light blue cloak in the pale moonlight, were approaching with little Pierre on one soldier’s shoulder.

She recognized them immediately: Aramis and Porthos, friends of Athos. Athos had left the De La Gauche house a few days before, saying goodbye and leaving her a bit sad and lonely. But the sight of her brother safe in Porthos’ arms and the amused look on Aramis face did not let her think of her beloved. When they reached her, Aramis made a very genteel bow, while Porthos gave the child directly to her arms from his.

«I was so worried!» said Marie, hugging the child very close to herself, caressing his head, and then looking into his eyes «Don’t run away again, promise!»

Little Pierre promised, and he said goodbye to the nice Monsieurs, and disappeared inside.

«Thank you very much, Monsieurs… I was so worried! He likes to explore and everything, but we’re not in the countryside anymore…» she explained, apologising with her tone.

«Don’t even mention it, Mademoiselle. It was a pleasure» replied Aramis, galantly «and our good Porthos, here, has a very fine touch with children»

Porthos nodded.

«I like them. They’re honest, and give less problems than certain grown ups…» said Porthos, giving a significant look at Aramis, and making Marie laugh a bit.

They bid goodnight to each other, and Marie closed the door, securing it.


	10. His look was fire and ice, and she found it with her own, that was silence and death.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick, intense moment between those two... with a twist in the story.

The Cardinal was looking at his papers. For an inexperienced eye, he could have been just reading them, or scheming to bring France to greatness, or even trying to fix the King's politic mess, but he was not. He was looking at those papers without understanding or paying attention to the words written on them.

The door at his side opened, and a very distinguished and gentle looking man, younger than him, appeared, with a very serious expression on his face. The Cardinal stood up immediately and dismissed the guards, that got out in a moment.

«How is she?» asked Richelieu, trying to look less concerned than he was.

«Better, now» ensured the man, who was a physician. The Cardinal had the feeling of breathing again after long minutes without air.

«What was it?» was the second question, and the doctor put up a caring but grave face. After an infinite moment, he spoke.

«She had a miscarriage, your Eminence» explained the physician, calmly, looking firmly into his eyes, as to ensure him of his discretion, but also wanting to know. The Cardinal did not even flinch.

«She will be fine. She's a strong, young woman and I am more than convinced she will get pregnant again. She must rest for a few days, until the bleeding stops, at least» continued the doctor, professionally. The Cardinal seemed to have nothing to say, as this was another thing he had to deal with on his own.

«As for her duties, here» continued the doctor, wishing he didn't, by the look of his opponent «just some four of five days more, just to be sure»

The following silence was heavy and threatening.

«You can count on my discretion, your Eminence, as always» the physician ensured him.

«Don't let me ever doubt that, Monsieur» replied Richelieu, surpassing him to go to his mistress chamber, and forgetting about him as soon as he was out of his sight.

Virginie was lying on the bed, with a white nightgown, safe under the bedsheets and the light blanket. Her eyes were open, looking at the ceiling as nothing mattered anymore. The Cardinal felt his heart sink, but didn't show any of it. He went near the bed and sat on it, beside her. His look was fire and ice, and she found it with her own, that was silence and death.

«Was it mine?» asked the Cardinal, repenting of that question as soon as it was spoken. Virginie was surprised and outraged, turned on the opposite side of the bed and curled herself up. Tears of disappointment and anger flowed down her cheeks.

There was pain and sorrow in the air, weighting it as the hot wind in the worst day of summer heat. She cried and he felt hollow, not for the baby of course, but for making her miserable with three words that meant he didn't trust her, and he did. He ought to. Duty was not waiting for Richelieu, not that day, but he stood up, he needed to do something. She immediately turned again on his side and reached out her hand for him.

«Please, stay» she begged «when I feel so bad and sick I feel like I will not wake up again. Don't leave me alone, please»

Her voice was a whisper, nothing more, feeble and fragile and something inside him shrunk. So, he took her hand, kissed it, and asked for a moment. He ordered the guards and the staff to give notice to the King that he was not well, and to excuse him for the day. No questions were asked, from them or Louis, when he heard his message.

All doors where closed, the world outside that chamber disappeared. The Cardinal took off his cross and put it around her neck, embracing her from her back and curling up as she did, while Virginie closed around that sign of the God that she though had punished her in the cruelest way and cried until she fell asleep, finding bliss in his scent and breath, that painted her dreamless slumber.


	11. You must be the strong statesman you are, for King and country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See how Louis is sweet but useless.

Marie had her best dress on: it was plain and simple, but she really liked it, and was very proud that Madame had asked her to accompany her at court. She was still not very well, after... Marie shook her head. The mere thought was offensive to her morality. She cared about Madame, of course, and was sad that she had to suffer, but still she disapproved, and could not stop to, especially if Madame had been hurt by that awful man.

«You have a brooding mood today...»

A low voice said this next to her, and she turned towards it, almost frightened. She had hoped it was Athos', but he was quite far, silent and more brooding than her, doing the musketeers' duty, guarding the King, who was walking in his garden with Virginie.

«I am just...» began Marie, but he smiled. The person that talked to her smiled of a very warm and funny smile, contagious and joyful.

«He's a good man, Athos, really. I'm afraid you are wasting your time on him, though» continued he.

«I don't know what you mean...» replied she, for once as terrible a liar as Virginie was.

«I think you do...» was his answer, and his expression was eloquent «Your mistress seems tired»

«She's not been very well, lately» said Marie, concerned.

He nodded and mumbled.

«Aramis, who's the expert on gossip around here, says she had a miscarriage»

Marie turned to him, scared. She didn't look like it, but her cheeks where red.

«I hope she's getting better, whatever happened» said than the man, with a small sigh, like losing a child was the saddest thing he could think of, even if the baby in question was not related to him.

«Thank you, Monsieur, she is. I'll let her know of your concern, if you want» said then Marie, an humble smile on her face.

«She probably doesn't know I exist, so don't worry. How are your brothers?» asked then. Marie opened her smile, lowered her gaze, but she could not reply to him: duty called.

« _Au revoir, Monsieur Porthos_ » said she, while young D'Artagnan beckoned him to come closer to the rest of the regiment.

« _Au revoir, Mademoiselle_ » said Porthos, raising his hat and leaving her.

The King smiled at his musketeers, and greeted them, then turned to Virginie, who was silent but serene. It was a great honour to be asked to walk with the King, and she understood it very well, especially noting her husband's fury for the invitation, which was only for her.

«I am very sorry to hear that you have not been well, Madame» said Louis, with his apparently bored tone. He was concerned for her, surely, but not as much to change his demeanor.

«Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty. I am getting better by the day» replied her. She could not say that it had been nothing: she knew that her voice would crumble and crack at that sentence.

«I am glad to hear it» stated the King, keeping his pace, walking beside her «So, your husband is a friend of our Cardinal»

«I believe his father was a close friend of His Eminence» said Virginie, hoping that he didn't take her words as a correction.

«Right, of course, I remember now» the King smiled, lively. Virginie thought he was still the Child King he had been at his father's death.

«May I say, Your Majesty, how I admire you?» said she, smiling sweetly as she used to. Louis put on his most fake humble attitude, but when he turned to her and saw her expression, he felt as modest as he rarely was.

«You may, Madame» he moved his right arm, from his chest outwards, with the ghost of a curtsy.

«I have never seen such a happy man, in spite of how heavy the burden of the entire nation must be on Your shoulder» said she, in her incapability of lying.

«It is quite heavy» confirmed the King «but thanks to the Cardinal and his irreplaceable help, I can smile and be jolly»

«Irreplaceable?» asked Virginie, curious.

«Oh yes. I don't really know what I would do without him. People at court, and beyond, despise him. Even my regiment, the musketeers, despise him. But he is a great statesman, and a friend. I hope you're not amongst those who dislike him» replied the King, smiling ironically.

Virginie thought he would blush, if he knew. He was such an innocent soul...

«If Your Majesty wants me not to think ill of him, I won't» were her words, and Louis was pleased.

«Promised?» asked the King, playfully.

«Promised» confirmed Virginie, smiling happily but with a small, imperceptible sigh.

«I am extremely pleased to hear it. Now, Madame, be so kind to walk me to my daily audience. Seems that our dear Cardinal has a visitor who wishes to see me»

 

They talked of that moment that night, in their chamber, between the sheets, when he embraced her from behind, his head on her shoulder and her arms around his.

«The King made me promise not to speak ill of you» said she, smiling tenderly at Louis, who was not there.

«He made you smile again, surely» noted him, inexplicably happy about it.

«He did. He cares about you a great deal» continued Virginie.

«Why did he ask you that? Where you speaking ill of me?»

His tone was ironic, and without accusation, and she understood that.

«I am not capable of lying, remember?» replied her, almost chuckling, lightly touching his hands with the tip of her fingers «he was talking of other people, and he made me promise. There was no need, but I believe it was important for him to know someone else cares about you, somehow»

After a few moments of silence, broken only by their breath in the night, he spoke again.

«It would be better for us not to see each other, while Luca Sestini is here»

«I thought as much. You must be the strong statesman you are, for King and country» said she, evidently sad but proud and resigned. He got closer to her without realising it.

He was tempted, really tempted, to talk to her about what Luca had said to him, about the possibility that he might be one of the favourites in the succession of the Pope, soon to be reconciled with God. Would she follow him in Italy, if that was the case? She said Popes had mistresses, too, when they first met. He wanted her to follow him, no use in denying it to himself. Was she becoming a weakness? Not if her life and presence were completely separated from his public life: that was the lie in which he reveled.

«It will be difficult to sleep alone. If I'll sleep at all» sighed Virginie, turning in his embrace to face him «I never thought ill of you, and I would not. I would never»

He knew now she had forgiven him: for that question he made when she had the miscarriage, for not saying how sorry he was, for everything and nothing.

«Rest now, my love. God only knows what lies ahead» said the Cardinal.

She searched his gaze with hers, alarmed, but he kissed her forehead, her lips, and she decided to forget and sleep.


	12. The old owl has been poisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See a little plot twist/addiction to Ninon's story...

Virginie sat alone and absent at court that day. She knew about the trial of Ninon Dellaroque, everybody knew. There were all sorts of ugly rumours about the awful things that woman did to young girls, and she did not believe them. She could not think that Richelieu believed them, not the Richelieu she knew. He did not talk to her about politics, or anything related to it, but she was a great listener: living at court every day, for her husband commanded her so, she had known many things about the State. France needed money, the Pope was not pleased with the treaty signed with Sweden, the Nation was in a very delicate position, and so was his First Minister. Ninon was wealthy, Virginie heard some people talk of sorcery... it was no big deal for her to understand the meaning and the aim of that trial, the real one. In the end, she could not really think ill of her lover, no matter what. She was an intelligent woman, and she was in love with the Cardinal: she perfectly knew that those two circumstances were one hell of a curse.

The King had been nervous all day, and then he decided he could not let the _Comptesse_ be executed. What would her family say? It would put him in a very uncomfortable position. Without the Cardinal advising him, he asked the Queen to run, to fly with him to the monastery as quick as they could and impose to the judges to commute the sentence if there was already one, and to avoid torture for Ninon. If she would confess, then he couldn't do anything, of course... but for that moment, he would feel much more calm and tranquil.

The Queen never left the castle without her _chaperone_ , a dull but stubborn and capricious woman who had just spent an entire hour that morning trying to convince Virginie to lend her the sweet looking maid she brought the day before. Marie was called and her mistress asked her to assist that lady, very sorry to give her such trouble. That awful lady was trouble, Marie discovered, and did not let her go when she had to follow the King and Queen to the monastery.

Marie could then see with her own eyes the poisoning of the Cardinal. For a brief moment she thought that was for the best: she hated that man, she was convinced he was taking advantage of Madame, his guards were without pride or honour, he was always scheming and was not a good Christian... it was a brief moment, though, because she was a nice girl after all, and she perfectly knew Madame loved him, even if her maid could not understand why. Moreover, she had noticed how Athos was distressed: something must had happened before she could come in, and even when Aramis and Porthos greeted her, when the emergency was dealt with, Athos was too troubled to even notice her, and called his comrades to get back to Paris and investigate. Marie knew perfectly well about Ninon and him: one of her friends tried to persuade her to attend the _Comptesse_ 's salon, and told her everything about them flirting.

Marie felt very bad indeed, but the priority was loyalty. She needed to get back to Paris, and very quickly, to inform her mistress, and she couldn't possibly ask those musketeers to get the news to Madame: her incapability of lying was very dangerous with such distressing information. She had to wait for that dreadful lady on chaperoning duty to get back with the royals, and then run home as fast as she could.

Marie hadn't foreseen what she found: the housekeeper told her that _Monsieur et Madame_ had been screaming and fighting as never before. Marie reached the room when they were shouting at each other. They were separated by a few paces: De La Gauche was the picture of cold rage, a few scratches on his face, while tears were running down Virginie's cheeks, her lip broken and bloody, but she was amazingly controlling herself. They stopped shouting when Marie came in.

«What the hell do you want?» asked the man, angrily.

«I must speak to Madame, now» replied Marie, scared but courageous.

«What is it?» Virginie said, making one step towards her. The two spouses seemed to be stalled before the girl came in, so that small movement made him run towards her, taking her head by the hair. Marie tried to reach her, but Virginie stopped her, raising her hand.

«It's the Cardinal, Madame» said she, rapidly. Virginie's look changed: the preoccupation in her maid's eyes was enough to scare her.

«The old owl has been poisoned» stated the man, with a grin «thank God: we don't need him anymore, he might as well die and take his secrets with him»

Marie did not know what he was talking about, but Virginie did: that's why they were fighting. He didn't need the Cardinal's money anymore, so he wanted her to stop this ridiculous affair. She protested, and fiercely, as he thought she would, little, naive Virginie.

The words he spoke last were too much, after all the quarrel they had. She gave him a knee strike, very hard, between his legs, and he let her hair go, breathless and curled up on the floor.

«Where is he? Is he alive?» asked Virginie to her maid, wiping her own tears with a firm movement of her hands.

Marie told her all about the poisoning, that the Cardinal was alive, only just. She wanted to add something, to convince her not to run to him. It was not safe, not prudent, but Virginie had made up her mind: she asked her if she wanted to follow her, and Marie could not refuse. Madame would get in trouble, she knew it too well.

They arrived when the sun had already set, and darkness and silence reigned. Marie covered her mistress with a large cloak and begged for a shelter, for the night, at the door of the monastery. Monks did not refuse it, for even if they were a cloistered order they could not turn down needy souls. Marie had seen where the Cardinal's chamber was and let her in, unseen.

He stood motionless, lying on the bed, apparently asleep. Virginie took off the hood of her cloak and thought it was too late, until she realised that his chest was moving up and down as he was breathing gently and regularly. She got closer, on her knees at one side of the bed, took his hand between hers, her forehead caressing it, and started crying, for all the anxiety and nervousness she had accumulated during the day could not be retained any longer.

The Cardinal had found very difficult to fell asleep without his mistress. Ninon's confession was given to the guards, her fate was settled. He had also spoken to Milady, about hell and death, and had had no comfort from it. Before finding some rest in a light sleep, he had been still afraid of leaving Earth with his unbalanced account with the Heavens, and having not had the opportunity to say goodbye properly to the only person who really loved him, apart from the King.

The Cardinal woke up, and at first he didn't know who was the person holding his hand and crying. Not Milady, impossible: she only cared for herself, and her job was done, so he had ordered her to go away and not make everything worse with her games with the musketeer Athos. He opened his eyes properly, then, and when he finally recognized Virginie, he wanted to scold her for her foolishness in leaving home and reaching him. He wanted to know she was safe somewhere else, at least her. But he could be a selfish man, sometimes, and was so glad she was there with him.

She felt the grip of his hands in hers and, raising her head and meeting his gaze, she kissed his fingers, turning her sadness tears in relief ones. She stood up, and getting rid of her cloak, she laid beside him, clinging to him and feeling how he was weak and feeble and thin under that linen night gown.

«You're alive...» she whispered, like it was a miracle she was speaking of.

He felt better, while his arm was around her, young and alive and above all there, with him, worried about him.

«Your lip is wounded» said the Cardinal, realising it only when he could look at her face.

«It's nothing. I won, in the end» replied Virginie, with a smile «let's not think about that. Not now» she begged him, and he could not refuse her that.

«I didn't want to go without saying goodbye» whispered him, pulling her closer. She closed her eyes, driving that thought away «I don't want to die here, now. I still have too many sins weighing on my mortal soul, God would not take me onto the Heavens»

Virginie opened her eyes again.

«I could not let you go to hell alone. I told you, remember?» asked she, and they both smiled. She kissed him and felt her little wound on the lip itching, and he noticed it. He turned to the little box on his bedside table.

«That swine... that hypocritical traitor...» he hissed, angrily. Virginie looked confused, and then helped him taking the box and revealed its content.

«Father Sestini gave this, a relic of Saint Anthony of Padua, he said. I did not think about the old way the Church of Rome likes to get rid of its most uncomfortable members» explained Richelieu «Since the poison did not kill me, I presume he will try again tomorrow morning, before disappearing mysteriously as he certainly is planning to do»

His voice was sharp and his sentence logical, and Virginie was motionless and intrigued by him, as she always was. She took the box from him, put it back where it was and gave him a fork she had took from the kitchens of her house, in case she needed it against her husband.

«If he tries before dawn, at least you can surprise him» she simply said. He burst into an amused laugh, and so did she.

«Would you stay, with me, tonight?» asked the Cardinal after a few moments, more seriously, his eyes fixed in hers, piercing her soul.

«I told you, I could not sleep without you» replied Virginie, taking his hand and lifting it to her cheek. They knew there was nothing that could separate them now.

They were so wrong.


	13. You must come with us, Madame. King's orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite a bit of plot twist takes us near the end of this story...

The court was silent. Not even the sound of whispered gossips was disturbing the grave and mournful muteness of the hall. The King had been sobbing all morning, and the Queen had not let go of his hand all day. In front of him stood both Cardinal Richelieu and Monsieur De La Gauche, waiting for a word, an order or anything else.

Louis turned to the other person in the room he was fully aware of.

«Captain Treville, give the order» said, gravely.

The captain of the musketeers got out and called his men. They did not understand at first, but they were good soldiers, even D'Artagnan, newly commissioned in the regiment.

So, the young boy, with Athos, Porthos, Aramis, arrived on horseback at the house in _Rue Vivienne_ , where Virginie was concerned and nervous. Her maid had disappeared, and there were no news of her. She moved towards Athos first, in the unjustified belief that he, of all people, could know. The four men were alarmed by the news, but could not help her at the moment.

«You must come with us, Madame. King's orders» said Porthos, looking sorry.

«Where? And why? You see, my maid, Marie, is missing, without a word of warning. I must search for her» repeated Virginie, anxious, while the rest of the staff was taking care of Marie's brothers.

«The Duke of Orléans has been murdered, Madame, the king's younger brother. The suspects falls on you» explained Athos, calmly. Virginie was stranded, and confused.

«The Duke of Orléans? Murdered?» asked, puzzled. Aramis got closer and offered her his hand, but she took a step backwards.

«I have hardly seen or spoken to the man!» exclaimed then Virginie, looking at them as they had all betrayed her.

«Please come with us. We are not obliged to be gentle, just to take you» said Aramis, gentlemanly. Virginie closed her eyes and then nodded briefly.

«I know. You're very kind» her voice was resigned and absent.

«We'll search for your maid, as soon as we can» promised D'Artagnan. Virginie smiled, nervously, and caressed his cheek. The four of them were touched, deeply, and their duty became heavier.

She did not struggle, and was conducted in front of the King, the Captain of the Musketeers and the four men who conducted her, as well as all court, now murmuring heavily with each other. Louis looked hurt and wounded, spiritually. Virginie was left alone, her husband and her lover both standing at the side of the King. She dare not look at neither of them.

«Madame De La Gauche, you are accused of the murder of the Duke of Orléans, brother of the King. How do you plead?» said Richelieu, as they had never even met, looking at her as she was nobody to him.

Her lips opened slightly, and she looked at her husband, briefly.

«I...» she started, and then cleared her voice «I am innocent, I swear»

She had then looked firmly at Louis, who could see deeply into her soul, but could not believe her totally.

«They were lovers, Your Majesty» said De La Gauche, almost dramatically «Heaven knows how I have been ashamed of this, and I could not face it, for I love my wife dearly. I found her at the first lights of this morning at the Duke's house, where we had a meeting. You knew him well, Your Majesty, this was his costume. She was beside the body, cold and dead, like he had been dead for many hours, with the knife in her bloody hands. I helped her in washing it away and hiding the evidence, but later... I could not live with this. I had to report to you»

Louis could not see any sense to it. How could that sweet creature be a murderer? How could she be anyone's lover? He had always thought mistresses should bring the signs of their awful conduct, somehow. He looked at his First Minister, his guide and father figure, but he was silent. Richelieu nodded, as to encourage him to go further. Nothing in him could betray how he was really feeling, inside.

«Is your husband telling the truth, Madame?» asked the King, as he was asking her to deny everything. He was devastated by his brother's death, he could not think of losing one of the few people he really liked at court too.

«I have never been the Duke's mistress, I swear. I have hardly spoken to him, I did not know him» replied Virginie, not sure she could stand on her own legs, her breath heavy and quick, for she was very frightened.

«Yet your husband says he found you at his house, and looked like my...» he took a moment to continue «my brother had been dead for hours. If you are innocent, where were you last night? There is anyone that can vouch for you? Your husband and his servants say you were not in the house»

Virginie closed her eyes. She was not home, the night before. As any night in the past months, she was at the _Palais Cardinal_ , she was in her room there, lying with Richelieu. She could not tell the King where she was. It would have wounded him even more, and destroyed his Minister's reputation. She could not even tell him a lie, she would be discovered immediately. She stayed silent, feeling guilty and lost, and crushed by the whispers around her. Then, she saw a small light in her mind.

«My maid. She can vouch for me» said Virginie, but the last word almost died in her mouth.

«Surely, Your Majesty, her maid helped her and then ran away. We have agreed to keep her brothers with us, out of generosity, for the maid is an orphan you see, and they were looking for her since yesterday evening» explained De La Gauche, displeased. He got closer and unwrapped a small bundle for the King to see: the blooded knife he was talking about earlier.

The King started to cry again, and the Queen reinforced her grip to his hand. There was no solution left. He could not understand why the Cardinal was not taking the initiative, as he always did when the King was dubious and hesitant. Louis beckoned De La Gauche to hide that awful object, angrily, then nodded towards Richelieu. The Cardinal betrayed his agitation for a fragment of a second, lowering his head in a gesture that everybody thought was natural or meaningless, and then spoke.

«Madame Virginie De La Gauche, you are found guilty of murdering the Duke of Orléans. You would be put in a place of restriction, and hanged by the neck until you die, tomorrow morning at dawn»

Death was in every word that came out of his mouth.

 


	14. Whatever happens, remember that I loved you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "See you at the bitter end" said the Placebo.  
> I say: see you after this, at the epilogue!  
> Enjoy the last chapter and then go to the Epilogue!

Virginie sat on a wooden bench, very rough and simple. She was still thinking of all that had happened and finally understood it all. The Duke of Orléans must have been her husband’s lover, the one who would provide him with the income he was talking about the day the Cardinal was poisoned. Her husband must have quarreled with him and all ended in tragedy. De La Gauche then kidnapped Marie and accused Virginie, knowing that she could not give a truthful and believable explanation on her whereabouts. She could have confessed her husband’s secrets... but then, he could have done the same with hers.

There was no solution. It was dark outside and still no news from the four musketeers that were searching for her maid. Nobody came to her prison cell, not even...

How could he, though? How could he leave the King? How could he do the most stupid, reckless thing and visit his mistress in prison?

When hope was not an option anymore, he came. One of his guards, just on the other side of the bars, opened the prison cell and let him in. Virginie stood up immediately, smiled nervously and moved towards him. The Cardinal was still, serious and silent. His demeanor was cold and icy, but his eyes, those were sad and desperate.

«Sit down, my love» said he, and using that nickname was too much «Please»

His voice broke, but he regained immediately his resolution. She could not understand, and her smile froze: was he there to rescue her? If not, was he there to say farewell?

She sat with him on the bench, trying to look into his eyes but his gaze was down, at his hands.

«Armand...» whispered her, and he finally raised his head. He handed her a cup but she didn't take it, not at first. Virginie understood, then, what he wanted her to do, and she shook her head, her eyes wide open, in panic. He stood still, he could not let her convince him to change that plan.

«Please...» she murmured, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, her lower lip trembling. With both his hands, he forced her to take that cup, and poured something in it from a small flask: it seemed only water, but there was a strange smell to it. She looked at the liquid, briefly, at him again and she resigned herself. With her free hand she took his, interlocked her fingers with his, gripping firmly the cup.

«Whatever happens, remember that I loved you. Even with my last breath, I did love you.» said Virginie, as honest as she always was. Her look was begging for one last kiss, and he gave her one, with watery eyes, then helped her to drink.

She put her hand on her throat, gripping at his with the other, as she felt like chocking. He took her into his arms, and waited for her eyes to close, her body to loose tension, her breath to stop. He laid her down on the bench, then, and got out. When the door of the prison cell was shut, he ordered the guard to dispose of her, as agreed, and left, as nothing happened.

 

Athos found the maid only in the morning, when the news of the suicide of Madame De La Gauche was public. Marie cried all her tears on the musketeer's shoulder and told him everything about her mistress' husband. She told her that Monsieur had kidnapped her in the middle of the night, tortured her and threatened her, and then locked her up somewhere she didn't recognize until the four men rescued her: she was hidden in a small room in the Court of Miracles. Marie did not betray the secrets of Virginie, not even then. She had disapproved, but in the end, she could not forget her loyalty.

 

Monsieur De La Gauche was found ripped in pieces a few days later. The physician at the mortuary said he had been tortured, for many hours, and bore a distinct sign of burning on his skin, many of which in form of a cross.

 

Cardinal Richelieu retired to his country residence for a while. The locals said he had taken a new mistress.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to look at the Epilogue... next chapter!


	15. Epilogue: 19 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 years later... see what happened!

Captain Athos was looking at his garrison with pride, from his balcony. Young D'Artagnan was now a man, a great soldier and one of the best musketeers. Things with Constance had been... well, let's say difficult, but sweet.

Marie called his name from the small arena where young boys were practicing. Athos went down the stairs to greet her.

«Where is he?» she asked.

«He won't be here until tomorrow. I have not received news, I'm afraid, but it's dark now, and he won't risk to walk in the _banlieue_ and in the city during the night»

Marie sighed.

«Porthos would have been so happy to dine with him, and share some wine!» exclaimed her, and then one of the musketeers put his hands on her eyes.

«Who is it?» said a very familiar voice. She smiled.

«Mmm, I'm not sure...» replied her, and the man took his hands away, pouting.

«Come on, Porthos... she would have recognized you in the dark!» exclaimed D'Artagnan, giving him a pat on his shoulder, entering the arena. Marie stood on her toes and kissed her husband on the lips, while D'Artagnan asked news of Aramis to Athos. The Captain said they would not see the Abbott until the morning after, probably.

 

Abbott Aramis was not very tired, but darkness was falling rapidly on the land and he needed shelter. A familiar house stood still as ever, and he knocked on the door. The Cardinal had died just a year before, so he wondered if the rumours were true, and if in that house stood his last mistress, the one he took after the murder of the Duke D'Orléans.

A young man, not more than 18 years old, opened the door, and Aramis almost screamed.

«Jean, who is it?» asked a female voice. A woman in mourning reached him, about Aramis' age, elegantly dressed, not very tall but proportioned, with red lips and dark hair and a big golden cross the Abbott had only seen around Cardinal Richelieu's neck.

«Who are you, sir? Why did you knock at our door?» asked her, gently.

«I am an Abbott, Madame. I am ahead to Paris, but it's getting dark and I need shelter» said Aramis, thinking that he must have seen her before, but... where?

«Come in, Abbott. We'll be glad to give you lodgings. We have also a little family chapel, and my son is home from the seminary just for a few days. I am sure he'll be glad to speak to you» said she, and her voice was kind and sweet. The young boy whom so distressed the poor Abbott showed him the house while his mother asked the maid to prepare dinner for three that night.

His hosts gave Aramis a big room, simply furnished, warm and clean. He washed and felt better, then came down to dine. They ate talking about him, about religion, faith and Paris, and then the young man asked to be excused: it was time for his vespers.

«He's such a nice boy, you know» said she, drinking some wine. Aramis was looking firmly at her.

«I am sorry, Madame, I must ask you something» stated him, after a few moments.

«If you want to ask me about my son, yes, he is just Richelieu's picture, isn't he? I couldn't ask for more» replied the woman, smiling proudly and tenderly «if you want to ask me, instead, if we met before, we did. In Paris»

Aramis was still shocked about the news that evidently the Cardinal had had a son by his mistress, and indeed that his mistress existed, to recall where and when they met.

«Your friend, Athos, was wounded. My brother Henri called you “musketeer scum”, so I took Athos under my roof for a while. My maid would have been so upset if I didn't... I've heard she married Porthos. I hoped so, actually, he seemed very kind»

Aramis was shocked, and almost choked with the wine he was drinking.

«But I thought you... you killed yourself!» exclaimed the Abbott.

«I thought so too, when Armand gave me that cup, that night. I thought he was poisoning me, to get rid of a difficult mistress he was falling in love with. But he didn't» explained Virginie, smiling tenderly as before «he gave me some potion, yes, but not poison. It made me appear dead to witnesses, but his guard, my brother, took me here. And here I've lived, with the Cardinal and our son, until Armand passed away»

Aramis was stranded. It took a bit to overcome his confusion, but he was glad. She had been a sweet woman, Marie had told them all, the musketeers, about her. They all thought it was such a pity she died. The Abbott smiled, too.

«I'll have very secret, confidential news to give, tomorrow» said then, and she gave him her best smile.

«Good news?» asked Virginie.

«Splendid news!» exclaimed Aramis «A nice, sweet lady is not dead. A man we all despised until he died was capable of love. A young boy, who seems bright and intelligent, about to become a good man... I would say it is good news»

Virginie raised her glass.

«To good news» said she.

«To good news» said he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Martina, my "red pen" teacher, who corrected by embarrassing mistakes in English.
> 
> Thanks to Elisa, for Richy&Virginie was, is and will always be her OTP.
> 
> Thanks to bygone_age, always ready to comment the new chapters. Let the Cardinal's blessing be with you, my friend!


	16. Bonus: Do you believe there are old nuns in Heaven, child?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus scene: Virginie wakes up from a strange dream where she felt like she was dead...

Virginie opened her eyes. Light was golden and orange, like the light of a sunny day, and she realised she was lying on a wide bed, for there was room enough for three people of her size. There was a strong lavender scent in the room

She did not know where she was, the few last things she remembered were the Cardinal's arms around her, his eyes clear and desperate, and his perfume.

She looked around and the only person in the room was a very old drowsy nun. Virginie tried to stand up, at least sitting up, but her head was heavy and she felt dizzy. The nun woke up all of a sudden and tucked her sheets and blanket.

«Where am I? Am I dead?» Virginie asked, with a hoarse voice. She felt sleepy and confused.

«Do you believe there are old nuns in Heaven, child?» said the other woman, smiling warmly. She seemed strong, even if she looked very old. Virginie felt like a little girl, at school, that replied with something silly to an important question.

«I did not believe there were nuns in Hell, for there is were I am going» Virginie replied, starting to question the fact that she might be dead.

«Oh, my darling, why should a sweet little thing like you go to Hell?» the nun chuckled a bit, sweetly.

«I am a sinner, sister, I know» said then Virginie, and the nun helped her to sit properly on the bed, rearranging the pillows for her, for more comfort.

«We are all sinners, child. If I were to tell you my faults...» the nun chuckled again «you love somebody everybody else, except maybe the King, despises. You did the best with what you had, and defended others. I was forced to be a nun as you were forced to marry a man who didn't love or respect you, and we both made the best out of it, I guess»

Virginie blinked a bit, and the nun checked and adjusted the curtains.

«Am I not dead, then?» Virginie was starting to become aware of what was going on.

The nun smiled.

«Last time I checked, I was alive. So you must be too» was her answer, and then she went away, and Virginie remembered where she had perceived that scent of lavender before. Her heart started to accelerate its beatings, but she didn't feel like standing up for now.

\---

The country residence of Cardinal Richelieu was a new palace since he acquired it, but some of the staff was inherited with the former house, and they liked to keep their customs. The Marquise who owned the house before was a great lover of perfumes, but had no skills himself or to acquire a gardener to take care of the plants. The only flower that was growing without too much effort was lavender, and he loved that scent particularly, so the Marquise asked to use it for its many purposes: in the kitchen as ingredient, as part of the preparation of soaps, dried to make little sachet to refresh the air, and all sorts of medical and health precautions uses.

Even though the Cardinal had appointed a gardener and also an apothecary, who sadly passed away a few months back and was not yet replaced, the old staff continued to work with lavender as before, while new servants worked more on the cure and use of other plants, such as camomile, elderberry, peppermint, rosemary, valerian, garlic, dandelion, cranberry and arnica. There were also large fields of violet and red grapefruit, from which the Cardinal's wine was made.

It was a small universe that functioned in a very simple, Spartan way, but life was good and nice. None of those servants ever complained, some of them even thanked the arrival of the old owl, as they sometimes mentioned him, for he might have been brooding and serious and grave, but he paid nicely, and treated them with the respect they deserved.

The Cardinal had never minded the large use of lavender in the house, but that day the perfume seemed heavier than ever. All windows had been opened in his study, paperweights were settled on important document, so they would not fly around, and Richelieu was walking up and down the room, impatient.

The old nun entered after a small knock, and the Cardinal stopped.

«She's awake, but she seems also quite confused. You should get a physician first» the old nun said.

«I shall see her first» replied the Cardinal, emphasising the subject of the sentence, almost offended by the mere thought that Virginie could see any other man before him.

«Calm your little black heart, Cardinal, I know it is more fragile than glass» replied the nun, with a wave of her hand. In other circumstances, he would have imprisoned her for such insolence, but they had been partners in crime before, and he owed her respect.

«I cannot calm down, unless I am sure she's fine» continued Richelieu, starting to walk again.

«I must deduce that your potion was not prepared by your usual apothecary, and you're not sure of the result» said then the nun, moving slowly towards a chair, one of the few chairs in the room, and sitting down.

«I could not find a good replacement yet, and when that husband of hers made that scene in front of the King I had very little people to trust with such an important business» explained the Cardinal, reaching the wine he had poured but not drunk yet.

«What if she died, then?» asked the nun, with a very ironic and malicious grin «you would be devastated, wouldn't you?»

His glance was pure rage and coldness, so she laughed a bit, and watched him go and see his mistress.

\---

Virginie still felt a bit confused, her head was heavy and her thoughts were racing. She tried to stand up, but as soon as her feet reached the floor she felt dizzy and unsteady, so she went back under the blanket and the sheets, and breathed deeply. That was the lavender scent of the Cardinal's residence, she remembered it well, from her first visit to him, the day her life changed.

Was she really alive? If she was, than she was safe, in the Cardinal's house, and he must had been somewhere there. What if they discovered them, whoever they were, and decided to take an exemplary punishment for both? No, they would have done it in Paris, not in the countryside... what if the Cardinal was not well and they, some other they, were instructed to get her to his country residence safe and sound?

Or maybe she was dead, and Hell was living in the Cardinal's residence all alone, waiting for him for eternity without ever finding him again. Or she might be in Heaven: she heard it could be different for each person, and she liked that place: she liked lavender, it was commodious but comfortable, spartan and yet cozy. That big bed she was lying on was not too soft but the pillows were fluffy and elegant, without whims. Everything around her was the emblem of the Cardinal himself.

She had no time to think about this revelation, for there he was. Cardinal Armand-Jean Du Plessis, Duke of Richelieu, entered the room. His face and his demeanour were tense and anxious, but when he met her gaze, his eyes were full of hope. She stood up, surprised and amazed, forgetting her dizziness, making a few steps towards him, losing balance and starting to fall forward. He caught her, she held to his arms, as he picked her up and let her lay on the bed again, like a doll or a little girl. She clung to his shoulders and did not let him go when she was on the bed, closing her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, reassured and safe.

There was no need for words, promises or apologies. 


	17. Bonus: Fallen Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to my Sister (of demons) with your OTP!

There was a new boy at the private, exclusive school. A very elegant lady came to talk to the headmaster, an old tutor who used to live in Paris, to ask him if he could take her child in his institute.  
The headmaster was surprised: his pupils were few, from 13 to 17 years old, already educated at home, of good families, destined to reach the best universities, political institutions, high ranks of the militia or the best offices of the Roman Church. The lady's boy, Jean, was 11. He had the brightest eyes, exquisite manners and elegant demeanour the headmaster had ever seen. The boy had good knowledge of history, law and even literature and art, was fond of architecture and erudite in politics. He was very proud to say his father taught him almost all he knew, but that he had been instructed not to tell the gentleman's name, of course, in respect of his mother, in her widowhood. The memory was recent and painful, the boy said, lying, while she did not shed a tear, incapable of imitate her son.  
It was well known in the village that the elegant lady, a sweet but not outstanding beauty about 45 years old, was Cardinal Richelieu's mistress. Nobody knew who she was, nobody had information and nobody asked. Mostly, they were afraid, but some were also sorry to see such a young and sweet woman associated with the ever hated and despised old owl, but she looked happy and content, and her child was gentle, kind, quite and always smiling. Everybody loved and respected them, and so everybody was happy and satisfied with what they did or did not know.  
Young Jean was admitted to the school, and every day his mother would go and pick him up to walk with him home. The other students tried to mock him for it, but after a few days they just wished their mother would do the same. They walked side by side, she would enquire how his day had been, and he would reply, politely.  
There were days when his father would be home, and they both rushed on the way back. His father was older than her mother, and had been his teacher and tutor, since when he learned to read and write, precisely at the age of 5. Jean's mother studied with him, in a way, perhaps to try and not waste any time she could spend with both her men. Jean's father was a very busy and important man, and Jean knew his name and that he was a man of the Church and a man of the State. The boy was told and taught at a very early age that rules sometimes can be fastidious, annoying and cruel, so to reach your goal you could be forced to take uncomfortable decisions. Jean was well aware, also, of the bond between his parents: he grew fond of the idea of that impossible love, not seeing it as a sin, but simply as family. They were not together all the time, for his father was working and living mostly in Paris. His mother could not follow him there, and she promised to tell him why one day, and each time they parted when his father had to go back he knew how bad it felt. He once had seen them embracing in a corner, kissing and whispering to each other, as the world had no importance, and time was frozen.  
The house was not full of laughter, but full of joy, when Jean's parents were together. They were always serene and silent: his father serious but calm, her mother smiling warmly. They were fond of cats, they had a dozen or more. Jean's personal favourite was Lucifer, the fearless black cat with green eyes, a scar on the left one, which got the name of the Fallen Angel.  
As his father before him, Jean decided to became a man of the Church to make his way in the world. He was officially the son of Nobody, and that was the fastest, safest way to success. He could gain honour and respect, using his talent, for he was intelligent. Older men asked for his advice, and reputation accompanied him everywhere. His mother was proud, and felt reassured he was gaining a position. His father did what he could to help him, keeping a low profile, but Jean did not insist on it. He knew his father was ill and was more busy than ever.  
It did not take long for his father to realise that was the last trip home. He had a strong fever, and he felt Death approaching. He dealt with all his affairs in Paris and was transported to the countryside in a rush. Jean took a special licence to get home from the seminary, to say his last goodbye.  
He greeted his father, as every good son has done in all history, as friends and allies, thanking him. He left him then with his mother.  
She cried, of course, he tried to get her away, to avoid infection, but she would not listen, as she never listened. The kissed and whispered as Jean saw them do all their lives, and Cardinal Richelieu left this world with all the love and peace his family could provide.  
Jean's mother never got out of mourning. She was dressed in black for the rest of her life, taking only her lover's cross, and lived her days quietly and peacefully.


	18. Bonus: Does she keep you company while I'm away?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't let go of these two, I really can't.

The Cardinal left the room in haste. He was tired, exhausted, and yet satisfied with his work. The King might be an innocent, naive fool, but he was not cruel or totally unintelligent. Louis understood perfectly when he had to be convinced and guided, for the sake of his country and of course of his fine Prime Minister.

Armand-Jean Du Plessis de Richelieu arrived at his office in his Palais in his most highly ceremonial robe, that he had worn to attend an important political meeting with the King. They established peace and dealt with the requests of earls and counts and barons, making them friends and allies of the crown once again.

The Cardinal sat at his desk, repressing a sigh. He was tired and yet there were always papers to read, possibly to sign and always to correct. He browse them frowning, and discovering among them a familiar handwriting on a closed letter. He opened it and smiled, maybe for real for the first time since the beginning of the day, or the week. He let his back rest on the chair, reading in his mind.

“My dearest friend,

it has been a few days since I have send you my last, and I must confess myself to have been quite the liar. I have conceived very important information, news that concern you, up until now, and I feel I must talk to you about it. Yet, this mean, this letter, is not the way I would like to do it, for I find it not up to the level of such news. I wish you could come and visit me very soon, and tell you face to face. I know how busy and important you are, so I cannot really ask you to reach this place. I just wish it, and pray God to relieve you of part of your troubles, to give you some time to share with me. I really long for our conversations and debates.

Waiting for you and sending you all my fondest wishes and regards,

you humble friend

V.”

The Cardinal put down the letter and begin to wonder. What was the meaning of this? What kind of news did she concealed from him?

Of course, the message came from his mistress, Virginie. They could not send each other explicit letters, in case they were stolen and read by other people. She always signed the letters just with her initial, and they called each other friends. They used all sorts of metaphors to hide their true feelings and meanings. He thought with a shiver down his spine about those “conversations” and “debates” she wrote about, knowing perfectly what she meant.

He put aside the rest of his papers and looked for a blank one, to reply immediately. He checked the date on Virginie's letter, and it was almost a week before. The poor thing, he thought, has been waiting for an answer for far too long.

“My humble friend,

as you are calling yourself, I am very sorry to see how long you have been waiting for this reply from me. You know me, though: as you have wrote me yourself, I am busy, and somehow your letter has not reached me until now. I must confess myself worried and most impatient to know about the news you have been concealing. I am concerned for you, as always. I hope you say your prayers every day, especially at morning. I really miss our conversations and debates too, especially those. I think I could find myself able to come and visit you sooner than expected, but I cannot promise you anything: I do not wish you to be disappointed if it won't be the case.

Take care of your little self, and wait for my return.

Your friend,

A.”

He sighed again and read the letter once more, just to make sure that nothing was too explicit or could be traced easily back to him. The Cardinal hoped that this mysterious thing she had kept secret was not affecting her health or their secrecy, and when he sent some of his guards to post the letter, he began to be more and more impatient to know. Virginie was unable to lie or cheat, but she could keep secrets. His dreams began to trouble him. Nightmares haunted his sleep, with visions of his mistress taken away by strangers, violated by musketeers, kidnapped and tortured by his enemies, or worst, segregated in a convent with a different cross around her neck. He grew pale and tired, and the King himself suggested he should take some time off his duties and recover, with at least a couple of weeks break in the countryside. Reluctant as he was, leaving Louis to himself for such a long time, he was eager and impatient to see Virginie. It had been almost three months since their last encounter, and the days were getting heavier on his heart.

The journey to his country residence never felt so long, the day after the King advised that holiday. The Cardinal had dreamed of demons and devils, of ancient poets and fallen angels, and he had fallen asleep during the journey, when the rage of the beasts and the defeat of the brave became even worst, in his nightmares. His black heart was pounding fast when he reached the door, and the servants opened it. The housekeeper informed him that Madame, as Virginie was called by any member of the staff, would be there in a moment. Panic was almost getting to his eyes and to his face: why wasn't she running to greet him, as she always did? Virginie was always impatient to see him; every single visit he did, since her arrival there, began with his mistress literally flying towards him.

He entered the small parlor beside the main door, refusing to sit down, too nervous to stay still. After a few moments, someone knocked. He gave permission to enter, and there she was, standing still, her sweet and gentle smile on her face. Virginie was indeed smiling, nervously now, and her expression was full of anticipation and fear. The Cardinal made a few steps towards her, suddenly stopping. She brought a hand on her belly, visible and round under her dress. She was with child.

Virginie hold her breath heavily, seeing him stopping so suddenly, the other hand on her mouth and eyes watering fast. He was so surprised he was lost for words, incapable of saying anything. She step away, getting out of the room, starting to cry, and it took some time before the Cardinal followed her in that chamber that was theirs.

Richelieu entered the room, finding her with wet cheeks but almost dried eyes, sat or better nestled in her armchair, her legs under her body. Virginie seemed distressed and ashamed, lightly caressing her belly, as to find comfort. The Cardinal got closer, gently caressing her cheek and lifting up her chin with his fingers. They said nothing, but he was smiling, so she was too. He would not ask her if the baby was his, because it was a cruel question when he did, months before, and he would not ask her why she ran away crying.

«How long have you been with child?» said him, instead.

«Our doctor said it should be four months now» murmured her, in a gentle tone, still affected by her crying.

«Last time I was here, it was less than three months ago. You must have had a suspect, at least, then» stated the Cardinal, with an inquiring look in his eyes, but still a smile on his face.

«I wanted to be sure» explained Virginie, taking his hands between hers, and looking at it «Sure not to lose it, this time»

These words affected him more than expected. His face became grave and mortified, and she stood up immediately. The difference was not that much, for she was quite short compared to him. She caressed his face and gently helped him to sit at her place.

«I know that everybody here in the village knows that I am your mistress. But they do not know who I really am» Virginie said «I don't want to give up or give away this child»

The Cardinal looked at her, puzzled.

«Why should you give it up?»

Virginie, surprised and moved by that sentence, started to cry again, smiling this time, and embraced him, caressing his hair at his nape. He reveled in that hug, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her perfume. After long and calm seconds, she put her hands at the side of his face, smiling. Her gaze was quite eloquent, as his became afterwords. She sat on his lap, taking his hand on her belly first, and then guiding it way lower. Virginie took his cross with the other hand, twisting the necklace around her knuckles, giving him the kiss she had kept for herself all that time, full of passion and desire. She whispered words of lust and love in his ears, caressed and stung and bit him, making him shiver and sigh and cry to that God he swore his chastity to. He obeyed her every request and order, like he never did before, and enjoyed every single moment of it, as she did.

«I am an old man, my love. You will be the death of me» said he, sat on the armchairs, while she was lying languidly on the bed right next to it, both in their undergarment and bathed in the orange light of sunset. She was grinning in a malicious yet happy way.

«I must admit it... I am not even sorry» replied she, stretching one of her arms and hand towards him. He took it and kissed it.

«I found a cat a fortnight ago, a small kitty» said Virginie, keeping her smile but turning it sweeter.

«Did you?» asked him, curious. He had always been fond of cats.

«Yes... a lovely little ball of fur, white, black and orange, with bright blue eyes. It's a she, apparently» replied his mistress, composing herself, lying on her side.

«Does she keep you company while I'm away?» the Cardinal stood up and went to sit next to her, caressing the side of her hips. Her womb was more visible now, and he found it wonderful, despite himself. She was even more beautiful and sweet looking than ever.

«She does. She's probably here somewhere... such a funny, charming little thing, she is»

The Cardinal spotted the small animal: she was really a small ball of fur, rolled up in a corner of the room. He picked the kitty up and brought it to his mistress, that turned supine and took the little cat to her bosom. Richelieu sat beside her again, closer. He put his hand on her womb, making her smile even brighter, her eyes watering a little.

«What is her name?» asked the Cardinal, caressing her as she did with the cat.

«She has no name, for now» replied Virginie, catching her lover's gaze.

«She resemble you... we should call her mum, or mummy» said Richelieu, with a whim of his other hand «when this little baby will be running around screaming it, it will be funny to see if he or she is looking of you or the cat»

Virginie laughed in the funniest, sweetest way possible, and his grin became more affectionate. 

 


	19. Bonus: A world secure and hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to bygoneage, my very dear friend, for her birthday :)

Virginie put an hand on her belly, smiling for her own mistake. The little one that was growing fast inside her now slept quietly in the cradle next to her. Jean's small chest went up and down at slow pace. Virginie smiled, and sighed, and began to write.  
“My dearest and most beloved friend,

I am sorry to write this after such a long time, but the new arrival as given the convent some work to do. We have a new little friar with us. He's very silent, for now, and I can attribute this to him being a little bit shy. Everybody loves him already, though. He joins us in our prayers, and he behaves very nicely, quiet and curious. I can't wait for you to meet him, I think you will grow fond of him very quickly. With your guidance and example, I trust he can became a very good man of the Church.

I hope you can come and visit us very soon and be relieved of your duties to relax for a while.

With the deepest affection,

your friend

V.”

It was a quick note, she reckoned, but she had to behave herself and write so little. If she could have her own way, she would have wrote so much more, wonderful but dangerous words... She added a small post scriptum, not able to contain herself, in a corner of the page: “I miss you terribly, please come and see me as soon as you can.”

She sealed the letter, just after the ink dried, and got up to look at her son. At first she couldn't tell what was the colour of his eyes, but now, after about 8 weeks, she could see they were a shade of blue very similar to his father's. She had a grandmother with bright eyes the colour of the sky, that is why she had hazelnut eyes rather than black. Sometimes she could see Richelieu's expression in his little face, once in a while she attributed them to her imagination, her longing for him to come back to her, while other times the staff and the nanny and wet-nurse confirmed her that he looked quite like the old owl, only sweeter.

Virginie had been ill after childbirth, feeling sick, feeble and most of all alone and sad. The absence of the father of that baby made her feel left out, and she almost didn't want to see the little one. Then, what made the difference was the nanny. She was called by the Cardinal's staff at the residence. They were afraid that the boy would die of starvation and loneliness, and the mother with him. They were very fond of Virginie: she was sweet and gentle and concerned with every aspect of their life and work. They also feared the rage and sadness of their master if something would happened to her. The nanny was a young mother, of course, with a child born just a month before Jean, the wife of the blacksmith of the village, and her name was Amélie. She took care of the child first, for a couple of weeks, reassured the staff and then went to see Madame. Amélie had hoped that while she was taking care of Jean, the problem would solve itself, but it didn't, so she went to see Virginie. She was in her nightgown, her hair uncombed on her shoulders, messy and forgotten, her eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet, silent and still as a statue. Amélie approached her very quietly first, then she let her speak, and then cry, and then laugh and finally see her son. She became her friend, she spent a lot of time trying not just to let her know but to make her understand that life was worth it, that the Cardinal was coming back to her, do doubt about that. Had she written to him? No, of course not. Why should she...? But of course she had to. They had agreed that all communication had to be done in a code, on paper, not by servants going up and down the road: he had very stupid guards, he knew it, and could risk to lose his lover for the greed or fear of some of his staff, from his Paris or country residences.

Virginie insisted that Amélie should live at the residence, as all the rest of the staff. Let her child and Jean be friends and grow up together, but she had her own life, at the village, and while she grew fond of Madame very quickly, as everybody else really, she didn't want to be her doll. Virginie understood, for she was everything but stupid or cruel, but she secured a very good friendship.

The Cardinal reached his country residence as soon as he got the letter. He had been very, very busy with the King, preventing his musketeers to make a mess, or his guards to help them make a mess, signed treaties, avoiding wars or misunderstanding that could bring wars. He had been as tired and lonely as ever. His headaches and nightmares had been worst and worst at each given day, and on the day he knew the child was due, he didn't sleep. In the few weeks he didn't receive news, he had been sleeping a few hours a night, and those few hours were filled with the worst kind of dreams. Death, disease, betrayal, robberies, all sorts of scenarios had filled his awaken and sleeping mind, until he got that letter. He had sighed of relief, like he had been holding his breath for months, only recognising her handwriting. He excused himself with the king, the Pope needed him, and there was no argue with Rome. Louis was so worried about his health and the safety of his position and soul that made no objections. Richelieu had time enough to set up a communication system, just in case Louis had the very clever idea to send his doubts and messages directly to the Vatican, discovering his secret.

Richelieu arrived at his country residence having send just a quick note to his mistress there, but was welcomed by her to the fullest. She didn't even wait for him to step inside the house: she saw his carriage approaching, and went running downstairs as fast as she could, almost tripping over a servant passing by, opening the door and literally throwing herself into his arms.

«You're here.» was the only thing she managed to say, her face against his leather tunic and golden cross, her eyes filled with tears of happiness.

The Cardinal, in the knowledge that his residence was far enough from the village to allow him privacy, embraced her for a few, long seconds, sensing her perfume and relaxing in the knowledge that she was there, with him.

Even the guards stood silent and respected that moment, taking care of luggage, horses, carriage and all that had to be arranged. After those quick yet long moments together, Virginie took Richelieu's hand and dragged him inside the house to meet his son.

The Cardinal had dreaded that moment, long before he knew Virginie: a lover of his, a whore, giving birth to a Godless bastard? A shame, a waste, a big problem to get rid off. Virginie, now, was not a whore, and not even simply his lover. She was his world, secure and hidden, the love of his life perhaps, when he thought love was not for him. He was still the man ready to kill and stab at the back for the good of his interests, to start a war if the nation needed one: he would kill for her too, even worst. He would do anything to make sure he could keep loving the two women of his life: Virginie and France.

They both arrived in the small nursery: the nanny was introduced and left quickly, but not before the Cardinal, in his best manners, thanked her for taking care of Virginie. He sensed that something had gone wrong in those weeks, but he didn't want to talk about it. All that he wanted to hear of know in that moment was that Virginie was fine. There he was, in the cradle: a small child, round cheeks and bright blue eyes, open and curious. Virginie took him in her arms, to let his father see him better.

That was the moment Cardinal Richelieu realised he had brought life to this world, and was ready to destroy everything for his family's sake.


	20. Bonus: The wine of the Cardinal

The vineyard was filled with light and songs. People were called from the nearby farms to help harvest the grapes from the Cardinal's lands. The dark red bunches were full and ripened, as there had been enough rain to fill them and enough light to let them grow. It would be a great year for wine, they were sure of it. Even the white grapes were looking good, actually, but the preferred one were the reds.

Virginie was tasting some of them, chatting with the locals as was her costume, while guarding her little child, Jean. He was about 6 years old by now, and a true son of his father: quiet, bright, intelligent, he could already read fluently and had started studying Latin. Virginie would read to him every night and at any given moment, if he was willing, and so did he. A servant came rushing to the vineyard.

«Madame, the Cardinal is almost here.» he said, panting and trying to catch his breath.

Virginie and Jean exchanged a glance: Father is arriving. They knew his return was due to that day, but there was no way he could advice them on the exact time: so servants were always on the watch to catch the sight of his carriage.

Virginie extended her arm and took his son's hand. A little nod and a little wink and they were running towards the house, like they were both children, the brightest smile on both faces.

They reached the back garden panting and laughing and giggling, rushing to find their breath again. Virginie and Jean got inside the house just in time to see the Cardinal step in the hallway.

Richelieu exchanged glances with her and smiled as he never did in Paris: without cunning and yet with a little malice that had nothing bad in it. She did not resist him: she flew in his arms as she had done frequently. Jean giggled again, but softly: he somewhat found his Father a little intimidating, even if he was not afraid of him. At this early age, the boy was already quite aware of himself and felt his Father deserved respect from everyone, his bastard child included.

As the servants were arranging the Cardinal's arrival, Richelieu let go of his mistress, whose cheeks were pink of delight, and got closer to his son. He bowed down to look the boy in the eyes.

«Welcome home, Father.» said Jean, politely.

«Thank you, son.» he replied, on equal terms. The way they resembled each other was so stunning and striking that Virginie felt moved every time they were all together.

«You have taken good care of your mother, I hope.» continued the Cardinal.

«Yes, Sir. I hope so, Sir.» Jean replied.

«Judging by her smile, I would say you did.» stated the father, with unmistakable pride. The boy's face lighted up.

«You can ask him, Jean.» intervened his mother. Richelieu looked at the boy, puzzled. Jean took a moment to gather his courage.

«The grapes are ready, Father. There will be the pressing soon... can I go and help?» he asked. «Please, can I, Father?» he added, every fibre of his little self tense with anticipation.

The Cardinal thought this through for a second and stood up. The boy was already figuring out his refusal, but the brooding face of Richelieu became softer.

«On the condition that you will be back for our Latin lesson.» he declared. Jean smiled with the same delight of his mother, and yelling “yes, sure, Father, I will” he was gone.

The Cardinal turned to his Mistress: an expression of motherly love, amusement and temptation was on her face.

«Alone at last.» he murmured in the lowest register of his voice. A familiar yet wonderful chill went down her spine as she got closer to him and drove him away from the corridors and hid them both behind the wooden door of the bedroom.

«Each time is more wonderful to see you home and more painful to watch you leave.» she declared, her head on his naked chest, the bedsheets and blankets scattered around them, covering the bare minimum. He was lazily caressing her hair and back, but was looking at a particular spot in the room.

«Is that Lucifer?» asked the Cardinal, and for a moment Virginie thought he was talking of the Devil, but giggled at the sight of their big and feisty cat, moving along the border of the wardrobe.

«You know how he is.» she replied, getting closer in their embrace. «He likes to watch.»

He laughed a bit at the thought, with that same sly smile on his face that made her shiver so.

«Many of our cats like to watch.» he noted.

«That is why we have have chosen them. Or maybe they have chosen us.» she said.

Lucifer reached the bed and from another hidden corner of the room came Mummy, their other cat.

«I told you so.» murmured the Cardinal, as the two cats ignored each other for a moment and then decided to ignore the humans instead.

«Mummy will be a mother soon, for real this time.» explained Virginie, leaving his chest to sit up and caress the cat's back. The belly was evidently big enough for a few kitties to be inside, and the cat purred a little. Richelieu sat up too, decided to not let go of his physical contact with Virginie.

«Do you regret it?» she found herself asking, while looking at the cat and cuddling it.

«What should I regret?» enquired the Cardinal. Virginie turned to him.

«Me, Jean.» his mistress whispered, her eyes in his on an evidently strong effort not to look away. He took a moment to answer.

«No, I do not.» he replied. Lucifer started to clean his wounded head and face.

Virginie smiled a mixture of delight and serenity he could never resist. He kissed her and distracted her from the cats, dragging her back under the blankets, scaring off the cats and hovering over her to kiss her lips, her neck and her breasts, fixing that smile of hers in an excited and happy laugh, soon to be a series of moans.

They had time enough to put themselves together and in order, of course, but it wasn't easy. They had been separated for quite some time. Jean came back from the fields a bit low in spirit, and his mother enquired right away why.

«They told me the wine is not ready... I hoped I could give it to Father tonight.» he explained to her ears only. She kissed his cheek.

«It takes time, you see, to make a good wine, as well as it takes time to grow into a good man.» she said. «And I know it is difficult to wait, especially at your age. But you will be glad of that delay, when the right time comes.»

Jean nodded and then they both reached the Cardinal's study.

The boy had his lessons, while Virginie stood a few feet away, reading and stroking Mummy's back again, the purring of the cat relaxing her together with her men's presence.

The house was full of joy that day, from downstairs to upstairs, and the night was intimate and quite as in every happy family. A fairytale and a kiss goodnight, and the promise of a bright and serene future for what society thought was just a sinful Cardinal, his Godless mistress and the love-child of sin, but indeed was just a family, a mother and a father and their son.

 


	21. Fields of lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is that time of the year again: my Beta's birthday! And since her OTP is always lovely, I will post this little note for her. Happy birthday friend!

Paris and the provinces are two different things, and yet are the same. France is a big country full of colours and scents, and Paris is the city that represents this country and yet lives of its own identity.

Cardinal Richelieu stood in his undergarments at the big open windows of his personal bedroom. The air was gentler, and spring was slowly changing into summertime. The strong perfume of lavender engulfed the space like a violet wind and without violence. He closed his eyes and inhaled with slow yet energetic breaths. A small figure got closer to him and hugged him from behind. In any other situation, he would have turned swiftly to stab the daring rascal who probably wanted to harm him, but this was not the case. Lavender scent had been stained by another perfume, one he knew well. He put an hand on his mistress' one, while she sank her face to he fabric of his long shirt. The Cardinal intertwined their fingers and made her move to face him: he stepped back while making her turn with a pirouette, as in a small and improvised dance. She giggled, and he smiled immediately.

«Did I disturb your morning prayers, your Eminence?» Virginie asked, taking both his hands now.

«You are always in them, so I presume there is no way you cannot disturb them.» Armand replied, with an enigmatic smirk.

«You should not presume to confuse me with this kind of ambiguous talk just because it is early in the morning and we sang our compline too late yesterday night, you know.» Virginie continued, letting him go and moving towards the bed. The Cardinal followed her with his gaze, trying to see her body below the thin linen that covered it: the sunbeam gave him permission.

She sat with an elegant yet swift move, and her nightdress scattered itself around her.

«I was merely stating the truth, my dear.» he stated, getting closer to her.

«You pray for me every day, then?» she asked, clearly wanting to take his hands again or simply have a contact with him, but avoiding it, wanting to prove a point.

«Of course I do. Who should I pray for?» the Cardinal enquired.

«Oh, I don't know. France? The King and Queen? Your lands and your farmers?» she ventured.

«I pray for them too, of course. But I believe you are forgetting someone.» he explained.

«Your son?» Virginie said, as he got closer and bended over the bed to sit on it next to her. She moved away slowly.

«Yes, but not just him.» Armand confirmed, as he sat now next to her, and stretched an arm to surpass her body in the beginning of an embrace. She lay down on her back.

«Then I must believe when you say you pray for me too.» she could not resist giggling again. His smile was wilder.

«At sunrise, at sundown.» he began to say, kissing one side of her neck and the other.

«Before the beginning of the day and at the end of it...» she whispered, as he stood over her now.

«At midmorning, at midday, in the midafternoon, and then, in the evening with the Vespers, and at night, with the Compline.» he accompanied each hour of prayers with a kiss, and she confirmed every single one of those with a sigh.

 

It was nearly midmorning when they woke up again, as the maids came in to tidy the room: they were used to finding them there, and had no comment or complaints: the Mistress was gentle as ever, and the Master was always severe but respectful. The maids left some cold breakfast and got out swiftly.

«They must be gossiping, sometimes.» she ventured, her head on his chest, her hand gently caressing his chest under his shirt.

«I believe they do.» he replied, his fingers ringed by her curles.

«What do you think they say?» Virginie asked, facing him now but not moving from him.

«That you are a very kind and gentle Mistress. And that the old owl, that is me of course, is getting better with age, or maybe with love. Jean told me.» he confessed, in the end.

Her smile made him shiver.

«He's becoming quite the little spy.» she said, proudly.

«He's a good listener: it is extremely important to hear what people say, for it is the best way to understand and act.» he continued.

She put her forehead against his. A gentle purr got closer: one or two cats must have entered the room.

«Even silence can speak. The silence of lavender fields and lazy mornings.» she murmured, as he closed his eyes too.

«Those are even louder, my love.» he replied.

 


End file.
